Young Justice: Fiery Problems
by Fukona
Summary: A new teammate darken's their doorstep. The team's mission: Learn to trust her even if they don't know who she is. Robin's mission: Find out who she is and learn to trust her anyway.
1. Beginnings

"Too slow, Kaldur. You've got to anticipate his movements and act on them quickly." Black Canary folded her arms over her chest. "You'll never catch him like that."  
Kaldur swung his arm, aiming in front of Robin, but still he couldn't catch him. Robin was like a fish in the water: fast and slippery. Of course, it didn't help that one of Kaldur's feet was attached to the floor.  
It was a training exercise that Black Canary had come up with, where one of the combatants could not move one foot from the floor and the other combatant was free to move at will. Kaldur could have held his own against anyone else, but Robin… ok and maybe Artemis.  
Robin snaked on from below and sprang onto Kaldur's shoulders, his finger brushing Kaldur's collarbone. There was a click and a beep and Robin rolled away out of range. Kaldur checked chest. He was wearing a suit that had 32 red buttons on vital areas of the body. Robin's objective was to hit every single button on the suit. Once he hit them, they would beep and light up. So far, Robin had hit 27 of the 32.  
Kaldur sighed. Robin was beating him pretty soundly. He would have to step it up a notch if he was going to succeed in this exercise. Forming a plan, Kaldur shifted his feet and lowered his hands, letting his shoulders sag. Robin moved, taking advantage of Kaldur's opening.  
Just as Kaldur suspected, Robin went for the hardest of the buttons, the one on his throat. Robin came from the back, his hand wrapping around Kaldur's throat, reaching for the button. Only then did Kaldur move. Grabbing Robin's arms with lightning speed, he swung the lighter boy over his head and threw him to the ground, pinning him down with a knee on his chest. They were both went still, breathing hard as the computer registered Robin's fall, deducting points from his score and adding points to Kaldur's.

_"Robin: 34 points. Kaldur: 30 points."_ The computer's voice announced.

"Good job, boys." Black Canary nodded her head. "Take a break and be back here in 15 minutes for another round. Robin, it'll be your turn to be stuck to the floor. Oh, and if you see Connor, tell him to come see me."  
There was a click and Kaldur's foot unlocked from the floor. He stood, offering Robin a hand up. The two of them headed towards the kitchen, Kaldur stopping along the way to take of his suit and the special crampons on his foot that connected it to the floor. It was a clever contraption. The crampons had straps that adjusted to the wearer's foot. A holder in the floor let the spikes clip in, not letting them move or rotate. Robin had designed it. Of course.  
Kaldur hung up the suit and followed Robin into the kitchen. They were confronted with a particular sight. Wally, wearing a flowery apron, was staring intently at a book on the counter top. Around his were scattered bowls, spoons and ingredients.

"What are you doing?" Robin was taken aback. "Trying to poison us?"

Wally looked up, scowling. "Black Canary told me _this_ was my training today. Now stop laughing and help me with this." He wiped his face, leaving behind a new smear of flour.

Robin grimaced. "No way. I'm off. See ya in 15 Kaldur." He disappeared.

Right on cue, Conner walked into the room, sweater over one shoulder. He took one look at Wally and started to back up.

"Conner!" Kaldur ran after him. "We must talk." Both of the boys made their escape and left Wally pouting in their wake.

_"Recognized. Batman: 02. Red Tornado: 16. Unidentified, Access granted."_ The computer's voice said over the intercoms. 'Unidentified, Access granted' meant that they were bringing in someone who wasn't part of the league.  
As soon as it was announced, everyone dropped what they were doing and ran for the z-tubes. Of course, Kaldur and Robin were already there, training, so when Robin heard it, he stopped defending himself and unclipped his foot from the floor. Kaldur, seizing the opportunity, managed to get several buttons on Robin before he turned to start defending himself.

"Hey! That's not fair, I–" The crampons slipped on the polished floor and Robin went down hard, landing on some of the buttons.

Artemis laughed as she entered the training area, M'gaan right behind her. No one had seen her this morning since breakfast and no one knew where she had went. Artemis did that sometimes. She would disappear for hours on end and even if everyone searched for her, they would find no clue to where she went. After a while everyone had just given up. They would just wait for a meal to talk to her. She always showed up for those.  
Batman and Red Tornado materialized in the z-tube pads. Someone else materialized behind them, but both were big enough to block him or her out.

"Batman!" Everyone shouted. He was the person who gave them missions…_and_ they hadn't seen him in a while.

Batman nodded to them in greeting and got straight to the point. "You have a new team mate. Please meet Flamethrower."  
The small figure that had materialized behind Batman and Red Tornado stepped forward. She was the same height as Robin, and approximately the same age, with short light brown hair. Her bangs were held back with a clip and she wore a black three-quarter-sleeved, crew neck top, jeans and red converse. She also had a small duffle bag swung around one shoulder. Not very super-hero-y.

"Hi." She said and held out her hand. "I'm Flamethrower."

There was an awkward silence. Batman coughed.  
Kaldur wiped his sweaty hands on his workout suit and shook her hand. "I am Aqualad, but you may call me Kaldur. Welcome to the team." The rest of the team stood there awkwardly. Usually Robin and Wally would rush up at the chance to get to know a girl, but they didn't.

"Whose niece is she?" Wally said instead as he crossed his arms. Robin snickered.

Batman gave him a stern look. "Though Flamethrower is only a temporary member of the team, I still expect you to make her feel at home. I will leave you know." Sometime during the conversation, Red Tornado had slipped off.  
As he turned to leave, Conner spoke up for the first time. "Aren't you going to give us a mission?" Batman didn't even turn around.

"I just gave you one." He said and stepped into the z-tube and disappeared. Everyone turned to look at Flamethrower.

There was a very long silence.

Artemis sighed, nodded to the new girl and turned and left. "Oh, I think your cookies or whatever you're making is burning, Wally." she said over her shoulder. There was definitely a stench of something burning in the air.  
Wally cried out and ran for the kitchen, apron flapping behind him. Robin and Kaldur went back to training. Black Canary had also disappeared with Red Tornado. Conner and M'gaan were left, standing there with Flamethrower, still in silence.

"Well, I guess we'll give you a tour then!" M'gaan said cheerfully. "For starters this is the training room–"

"M'gaan! Help!" Wally yelled from the kitchen. Dark smoke billowed out from the doorway.

"Oh dear. Conner, could you start the tour? I'll catch up as soon as I fix up Wally's mess." She flew off toward the kitchen. Conner and Flamethrower were left standing awkwardly over by the z-tubes and Robin and Kaldur spared on the training circle.

"So, this is the training room. Cool." Flamethrower tried to break the ice. It didn't work.

Conner inspected her as she turned around, taking in the whole room. She was slim, but well muscled. All her clothes were brand new and her hair freshly washed. _ Some rich guy's daughter who thinks she can be a hero,_ Conner narrowed his eyes. He didn't like her much already.  
Conner stalked off, Flamethrower trailing behind him like a kite. She got her tour, but the tour guide said the average of one and a half words per room they visited, and the average of no words in between. Of course, for Conner, this was almost a norm; the boy being a more silent type. Kaldur passed by them briefly on their way to the sleeping floor and told Flamethrower that she could have the spare room beside Artemis's. M'gaan didn't end up joining them; either too busy helping Wally or finding something better to do.  
Conner finally led Flamethrower back to her room, leaving her to unpack. He then headed back to the kitchen, finding everyone else sitting around or lounging, talking about the new girl.

"What do you think about the new girl, Conner?" Wally had taken off his apron and was leaning against the counter, eating a burnt cookie. "I mean, you've spent the most time with her out of all of us."

Conner stopped to think about it for a while before he answered. "She's very talkative. She didn't say anything about herself, though."

Robin was sitting, crouched on the table. "I think she's soft."

"Some rich guy's daughter that thought she could help people with her powers, probably." Artemis scowled, "Hey, Conner, do you know what they are yet? I mean her powers. Or is she a normal person?"

Conner shook his head. "Didn't see any signs–"

"But considering that her name is _Flamethrower_," Wally motioned with his hands, "I'd say she's a fire user."

Kaldur and M'Gaan both shifted uncomfortably.

"Great, that's the thing we need." Robin snorted. "A fire wielder when two of our members are mortally vulnerable to fire."

"Tomorrow she will be tested, no?" Kaldur said. "We can see how much training she has and we can explain the situation to the League." When the other member had joined, Batman had tested them the day after so he could see the extent of their powers or skills and confer with Black Canary on future training.

"Hey, guys! What are you doing?" Flamethrower walked in, all cheery, completely oblivious to what might have been going on before she had entered.

"Just leaving." Artemis mumbled and stood up from her chair. "Wally, call me when its supper." She slipped out of the room.

Kaldur, Robin, Wally and Conner all exchanged looks.

"Flamethrower," Kaldur started, "Did Batman explain anything to you for tomorrow?"

"No…" Flamethrower looked puzzled as she stood in the middle of the room, not sitting down. "He just sort of…" she paused awkwardly, "…picked…me up. And then we came here."

"Because today is your first day, you will be allowed time to relax," Kaldur explained, "but tomorrow, Batman will come back and test your skills and what you can do."

"Oh, ok," Flamethrower nodded and grinned, "so like a test. What do I have to do? Just like this or…"

She held out her hand and two seconds later, a flame ball appeared in her hand, dancing around her palm.  
M'Gaan gasped, not expecting it. Wally jumped up and zipped around the table grabbing her wrist, Robin yelling. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, turn that off!"  
Flamethrower looked confused and a bit afraid at everybody's reaction to her display of power but she concentrated on her palm and it started to shrink. It took almost 10 seconds for the ball of fire to disappear completely and quite a bit of work as well, by the looks of it. Everyone breathed out in relief when it finally disappeared.

"Look," Flamethrower looked at them pleadingly, "it doesn't usually take that long to go out, usually it just diss–"

Wally breathed out in relief, one hand on his chest. "That might not tbe the best idea right now…"

Flamethrower still looked surprised as she started at him, "I thought this place was firproof–"

"This kitchen might be but neither Kaldur and M'Gaan are," Robin stood up, "So don't walk around waving those fireballs because not everything is fireproof."

Flamethrower stared at him wide eyed and nodded. Wally released her wrist and together, he, Robin and Kaldur cleared their dishes and separately wandered off to do their individual tasks.  
Flamethrower stared after them, still unmoving and then glanced over at M'Gaan, still standing by the counter.

"Look, I'm sorry, I–"

M'Gaan smiled weakly. "It's okay, don't worry."

Flamethrower sniffed and whipped her hand over her face.

"Thanks." She smiled gathered up her plate.


	2. Punches & PCs

The next day arrived bright and early, every one but Robin having slept soundly. Though, used to long nights out on the hunt for crime, Robin managed to hide his fatigue easily.

The night before, in bed, the alarm bells in his head – beaten into him by Batman (figuratively) – were ringing off the hook. At 3 o'clock, accepting that he wouldn't get any sleep that night, now matter how much he tried, Robin dressed and slipped down to the main room to use the supercomputer in the training area. For the remainder of the night, he searched everything the Justice League system had about the new addition to the team.

Robin was incredibly disappointed, and because of that, slightly suspicious. When a hero appears and either joins the league or strikes out on his or her own, they are logged into the JLA system. Even normal civilians with unusual skills or powers were entered, just in case. When someone was entered into the system, _everything_ about them was put down; their birthdate, their parents, their height, eye colour, hair colour, their alter ego and superhero identity, where they were born, where they lived, what schools/education they've had as well as many other things, including criminal records. Some people's files were gigabytes long.

Flamethrower's file was less than a page. There was a mug shot of her, wearing the same clothes as she had when she had arrived at the Young Justice base, as well as her superhero identity (Flamethrower). That was it. No names, places, dates, nothing. Robin used his hacking devices to find out when this file was created. It was created the day she arrived, which was yesterday. Cross-referencing the time of creation of the file with the z-tube log, the file was created under five minutes before she had actually z-tubed to the base with Batman and Red Tornado.

Undiscouraged, Robin then used every trick he knew and hacked the entire system, looking for any files – encrypted, locked, zipped, compressed – containing newspaper articles, mission logs, journals and everything else the JL had archived (which was quite a bit) for the keywords _Flamethrower_, _Flame_, _Thrower_ and a bunch of other relevant words and phrases. Most of it was junk, some too encrypted for Robin to bypass, other stuff having no relevance. Nothing he found had any significance. Robin was officially whelmed. There was nothing. _Nothing_. That was incredibly suspicious.

Finally reduced to surfing the civilian's web (Google) by 5 o'clock, Robin found one possible lead. While scrolling through articles related to pyromaniacs and house fires, he came across a picture of a class of school children. Clicking on it brought Robin to an article about a small boarding school for ex-juvenile delinquents that had been burned down, five years ago. The little, smiling girl in the front row (between the Hispanic boy with fewer teeth than fingers on one hand and a black girl who looked like a man) caught his attention. Though the haircut was different, and the face rounder because of younger age, Robin couldn't shake his doubts. Running a face recognition process against the mug shot in the official JLA files, Robin confirmed his beliefs.

That girl was Flamethrower.

A couple hours later, Robin lounged against the wall, watching Wally and Conner spar. He patted his pocket for the tenth time, verifying that the papers were still there and yawned. He had made hard copies of all his labours; Flamethrower's file and picture and folded them, stuffing them in his pocket before deleting all traces of his search and shutting down the system. Robin had no doubt that Batman would find out about his midnight's escapade, Robin did it more out of security so that he would be sure Flamethrower wouldn't find it.

Robin would show the pages to the others as soon as Batman had left.

Speaking of the devil, Batman appeared in the z-tube, Martian Manhunter and Green Arrow right behind him. The appearance of Batman's two companions confirmed Robin's deductions completely.

Unhooking himself from the wall, Robin wandered over to the ring where everyone else was gathering. Batman was speaking to the collective.

"Today we will be testing your abilities, Flamethrower."

She nodded, "Kaldur told me."

"Very good. These tests will range from power based to skill based, without using your powers. We may ask you to spar with one of your team members if necessary."

Flamethrower shifted at this statement, but nodded all the same.

"Before we start the testing, I would like to talk to Robin. In private." He didn't look too happy, but Robin had his excuse ready.

The others looked a little surprised, but parted to let Batman and Robin make their way to the kitchen, where they couldn't be heard.  
When they were out of sight and earshot, Batman turned to Robin, a stormy look on his face.

"Explain," he crossed his arms.

"I realize it was irresponsible to go digging in the system without permission, but it had to be done."  
Batman raised his eyebrows.

"We have never seen her before, never even heard of her. How are we supposed to trust her? Teamwork is about trust and the way she's been acting, it looks as if she can't even trust herself."

"You must respect the Justice League's decisions, Robin. It is not your place to question them. In addition, that is part of the exercise is it not?"

Robin looked sideways.

"You must learn to trust people even if you don't know who they are. This is a valuable skill, to determine who can and cannot be trusted, no matter what they have done in their past." He paused to let it sink in. "Why do you believe that can she not be trusted?"

Robin ducked his head, ashamed at how he had just told off his mentor and a head member of the Justice League.

"Well," he fidgeted, "Last night, Flamethrower decided to demonstrate her powers for us, right here in the kitchen. We asked her to turn off the flames but it was at least 10 seconds before she could extinguish the flame ball in her hand that was the size of an apple. She has no or very little control of her powers and can be a big danger to all of us. As well as put the missions in danger."

Robin stopped there and didn't dare to look at Batman as he processed the information. After a long silence, Batman uncrossed his arms.

"I will review the security tapes and confer with the rest of the Justice League. While she is here, I delegate _you_ to make sure that she is comfortable and that she feels safe. The reason she is here is so that she can _learn_ control, is it not Robin?"

Robin nodded, pissed, now that he was chosen to be the new girl's nanny. Before Batman left, Robin mentioned his findings.

"I presume you know that Flamethrower was involved in the burning of the juvy boarding school, five years ago."

Batman paused at the door.

"Of course." he said.

The testing went on for the better part of the morning, ranging between physical and mental tasks, so that Flamethrower would not tire as fast. She was allowed to take breaks between long sessions of physical tests. People wandered in and out of the test room, the most constants being, of course, the testers and Robin. He was observing her as much as possible, assessing her every move and deducing how much of a threat she could possibly pose to any of them.

Flamethrower wasn't particularly fast, but she was strong. Her muscles didn't show, but the could lift more than Robin could, almost as much as Kaldur. With more training, she could easily lift as much as the Aqualad, if not more. Flamethrower was also incredibly persistent. If she failed at one test, Black Canary would let her try it once more. If she didn't succeed again, she would plead with her to let her do it again. One of the particularly hard tests – where Robin was wondering whether he himself could do that – Flamethrower retried six times, until Batman had to forcibly tell her that she could _not_ do it again. This could be a problem, Robin thought, if her pride became an issue.

Flamethrower seemed to have more control of her powers today, than she did the day before. In the power display part of the test, she was able to make four apple-sized fireballs at a time and extinguish them with ease. She could also throw her fire and make bigger fireballs that she could hold above her head with two hands. Flamethrower, though, was not vulnerable to her own fire and burned herself a couple times in the duration of the test.

At one point, she seemed to have passed her limit of controlling fire and the fire began to grow with uncontrollably frightening speed. Flamethrower panicked as she lost control and the fire eventually had to be put out by a Fire Extinguisher Arrow from the Green Arrow. Flamethrower would probably have a bruise on her forehead tomorrow. It would also prove a problem if she panicked at any sign of danger.

Lunchtime came quick enough, and Flamethrower was sent to eat as the testers conversed among themselves. Most of the other members had eaten earlier and so Flamethrower was left to eat by herself in the kitchen. Robin from the doorway watched her as she ate.

She seemed to be quite normal. She was clever and creative, finding many unexpected solutions to some of the test questions. In all other aspects, she seemed just like some average person (with super powers) pulled off the street. Robin still had his doubts, though. He wouldn't let her cheery and friendly act fool him. Sooner or later, something would come out. He was sure of it.

Green Arrow tapped Robin on the shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts.

"We have decided that we want to see Flamethrower spar with someone as the last test. Do you mind?"

Robin nodded. "Sure." He would get a closer look at her that way.

"Good. You can tell her. I want you both on the ring in 10, in full sparring gear. You too Robin. _Full sparring gear_. We still don't know how she fights."

Robin snorted. He hadn't used sparring gear since the second day he joined the Young Justice League. But orders were orders.

He wandered into the kitchen, watching Flamethrower through the corner of his eyes. As soon as he walked in, she stopped eating, put down her sandwich and stood.

"Robin." He nodded to her. "Uh, thanks for, uh, staying to watch my testing. I saw you were there for most of the time."

Robin looked at her. She seemed harmless and sincere enough. "Welcome. They want me and you to spar in 10, full equipment."

She gawped. "Against you?! But I'm going to get creamed!"

"They want to see how good you are. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." Robin half-smiled at her reassuringly.

"Ah, okay." She shifted and looked away. "Full gear, huh. I don't have any of my own."

"I'm sure we can rustle up some for you. We have lots of extras in the backroom. Done eating?"

She smiled and nodded, "Yeah, sure."

Ok, maybe she wasn't _that_ bad.


	3. Assignments & Arias

Most of the pads that Robin found fit Flamethrower quite well, but he couldn't find a pair of hand guards or a helmet the right size. For the helmet, they ended up using one that was a size too big so Flamethrower had to push it up once and a while when it slid down her forehead. For the gloves, Robin wanted to wrap her hand with tenser bandages to protect them, but Flamethrower refused. She wanted her hands free for the fight, just in case she was allowed to use fire. Robin doubted it, but shrugged and let it slide.

Flamethrower had obviously never worn sparring gear before. She kept pulling the chest gear lower and her shin guards higher, to make it more comfortable. Robin had to show her that that was how it fit and pulling it up or down would make it ineffective. He also showed her some stretches and tricks to make sure the gear was sitting properly.

The ten minutes were up fast and Robin had to quickly sprint back to his room to get into his own gear. By the time he got back to the training room, everyone had gathered around the edges of the training area, interested to see what Flamethrower could do. As Robin came within hearing range, shoving his helmet onto his head, he heard Flamethrower laugh nervously and rub the back of her neck, embarrassed.

"No, no, I've never taken, like martial arts classes or anything. I just know the basics of self defence and stuff, but that's it…"

Batman watched her carefully as Black Canary typed something into the dashboard in front of her then answered.

"Don't worry," Black Canary said reassuringly, "We will get Robin to go easy on you. Just show us anything you know."

Flamethrower nodded nervously and turned to face Robin. Robin settled into a defense position, hands up. He wasn't going to really try, just land a couple experimental blows on her and fend her off so that she wouldn't be _over_whelmed. Flamethrower also settled into a fighting stance but it was a weird one. She bent her knees, one foot slightly behind the other ones and dropping her hands to her sides. Robin made a mental note to tell her to keep her hands up, to deflect any blows to the face.

Black Canary called for them to start and Robin inched forward, watching her closely. Even though he wasn't trying, it would still be embarrassing to be floored by a lucky blow from an amateur. Flamethrower too came forward, sliding her feet across the smooth floor until the two of the stood only a meter from each other.

Flamethrower's helmet slid down over her eyes and as she brought a hand up to push it back up, Robin made his move. He aimed a faint punch at her head and then a real one at her stomach. Flamethrower's head jerked up and she deflected both blows by knocking one with her shoulder and the other with her raised knee. Robin was slightly taken aback by this strange fighting style, and while his brain was still chewing on it, Flamethrower attacked. She put a shoulder to his gut and bowled him over into his back, Robin landing on his back and then S-bending out of reach.

Flamethrower circled a bit and then crouched, waiting for Robin to come back. Instead of crouching with her hands forward, Flamethrower crouched with her arms clasped behind her, leaning forward and close to the ground to counter the weight of her arms behind her. In that position, she waited, watching Robin from underneath the slipping rim of her too-big helmet.

Robin returned to his former position and waited for her to make her move. Flamethrower didn't move a muscle, but her eyes here glued to him as she carefully analyzed everyone of his movements. Robin briefly imagined a panther waiting in the shadows of a tree, not making a move, waiting to see if the passer by would notice it.

They stood staring at each other for over a minute and eventually Robin got fed up and turned to shoot a puzzled look at Batman and the other testers. In that moment, he heard the rustle of cloth and cursed himself for turning away. Robin got a knee in the face and he crashed to the ground, breaking his fall with his arms. His face ached from the impact but he kept rolling, right over his head into a crouched position then sprang forward.

Throwing punches, jabs and blocks, the two of them were locked in combat, Robin and Flamethrower head to head. Flamethrower's hands flared up in flame and flickered as she ducked and weaved. Robin watched warily for the flames that licked her skin and left red marks, but Flamethrower fought mostly without her hands anyway, either ignoring or unaware of the pain that the flames caused. Even though the two of them had looked relatively at the same level until now, it was obvious that Robin was way more advanced. Sparring seemed to be Flamethrower's weak point, that's why she mainly stuck to the Blitzkrieg style of fighting.

Flamethrower had a distorted way of sparring. She rarely used her hands and when she did, it was mostly for balance and a bit for blocking. To attack, Flamethrower used mostly her whole body including her legs. Her fighting style was mostly defensive, waiting until the target was distracted of disabled in some way and then attacking in lightning strikes and circling away to regroup.

Robin was still easily above her level and landed many blows on her. His face (and pride) still stung from being kneed in the eye but he held himself back from beating her thoroughly.

They sparred for almost 10 minutes and Flamethrower was starting to get very tired. Her movements were sluggish and her breathing laboured, sweat drenching her clothes and dripping from beneath the helmet. Eventually Batman called it finished and Flamethrower sat down on the ground and removed her helmet. Robin did too but he had only raised a light sweat, where as Flamethrower's hair was dark with moisture and she wiped her dripping forehead with her sleeves.

Robin walked over to her as his mentor and companies discussed in quieted tones over to the side. Flamethrower smiled tiredly up at Robin as he neared, still breathing hard. He offered her hand and she took it, pulling herself up.

"Wow, you're incredible!" Flamethrower's eyes shone with admiration and Robin cocked her an eyebrow.

"Where did you learn all that?" Though she looked exhausted, Flamethrower still had the energy to be excited. "I mean, the way you ducked and weaved and parried and—look! You barely even broke a sweat! Man. Incredible. Are all of you that good?" She glanced back at the rest of the Young Justice team who where watching them from the wall.

Robin cracked a smile. "Well, I've been Batman's…apprentice, I guess you could call it, for quite a while now and because neither of us have powers, we rely completely on hand-to-hand combat and our tools. I have been trained in a wide variety of marital arts including judo, karate and taekwondo."

"Artemis doesn't have powers either and so she's pretty good at hand-to-hand as well. She's also an excellent archer, like the Green Arrow over there. M'Gann is Martian Manhunter's niece from Mars, so she has basically some of the same powers as he does; shape-shifting, telepathy and telekinesis and so one. Kaldur comes from the underwater city of Atlantis. He can swim at high speeds and breathe through his gills and control water as well as create electricity, like an electric eel with those tattoos on his arms. Conner can—"

"Yeah, go on ahead," Conner growled, "Go ahead and tell her all our secrets."

Wally appeared at his side. "They're not exactly secrets, man. Everyone knows what we can do." Turning to Flamethrower he proudly stuck a thumb at his chest. "I can run faster than light—"

"Nowhere near," Robin smirked.

"—and I'm also incredibly smart and a really good eaterImeanleader." he finished, ignoring Robin entirely. "What about you? We saw you juggling those fire balls and throwing them around all like _fwooosh_ and like _pow_ and _kablam_—" Wally pretended he was throwing around huge fire balls, like Flamethrower did and making the sound effects to go with it.

"—but is there like anything else you can do?" he finished in mid throw.

Flamethrower laughed at his antics. "Not really. I can create fire and control it too, but that's about it."

"You are fairly strong," Kaldur walked over to them, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I saw you lifting and throwing during the test and with the proper training, you could become even stronger."

"Thanks!" she beamed up at him.

"Sorry about last night," M'Gann blushed, "but you did really well out there. I remember when _I_ got tested, I could barely do any of the things they asked me to de and it was _such_ a mess. You looked really awesome."

Artemis wandered over. "Good job." That was pretty big compliment for Artemis.

To Robin, it looked like Flamethrower was finally starting to bond with the other members of the Young Justice team. It was a rocky start at first, but now it looked like she would fit in just fine.

Eight o'clock in the evening found Robin chilling in his room, sitting on his bed with his computer perched on his lap, listening to music.

The Young Justice League had eventually gotten to a point where they mostly all lived in the Mount Justice. M'Gann and Conner (and now Flamethrower) were the only ones that actually permanently lived there but the team had been on call so much recently that they had decided to bunk at the base for a week or two.

Unfortunately, Robin had used his bedroom at the base as more of a workroom (because he never had the need to sleep there) and had to get Conner to ] drag him up a spare bed from the storage room because he had put his away, thinking he would never actually bunk over at the base. Oh well.

Robin was now relaxing on his bed that smelled of mothballs, earphones on. After Flamethrower's test, Batman had called him over and handed him a USB with the video of Flamethrower and himself sparring and asked Robin for a full report on the video. Wally teased him at having to do homework until Artemis reminded the incredible Kid Flash of his English essay he had been putting off that was actually due tomorrow (summer school).

The sound track of the sparing video was nothing but a couple grunts and thwacks as they hit each other so Robin muted it and listened to his own music. Robin enjoyed listening to music as he worked, as it blocked out all the background noise and helped him concentrate in his task (also, to the rest of the team, if Robin had his headphones on, that sent out a big visual message saying 'PLEASE DO NOT BOTHER ME RIGHT NOW OR I WILL BE FORCED TO KARATE CHOP YOU IN THE THROAT'. The Young Justice members respected each other's privacy.)

Most of the music he chose had very few or no lyrics in them, or lyrics in other languages that he didn't understand so that the words would not distract him. Unfortunately, opera was generally an exception as Robin could speak Italian, French and German all fluently.

At the moment he was listening to his favourite aria from one of Puccini's most popular operas _Tosca_ (also, one of the most popular arias of all time); the aria _Vissi d'arte_ sung by (in this recording) Montserrat Caballé – whom, according to Robin, was one of the best sopranos in history. Robin just lay back in his pillows and sighed as Montserrat Cabellé filled his head with her exquisite dynamics and technique, emotion and incredibly beautiful voice.

_Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore,_

_non feci mai male ad anima viva!_

_Con man furtiva_

_quante miserie conobbi aiutai._

Though Cabellé believed her best performance was in _Norma_, this track was one of the most listened to on Robin's playlist and therefore, he heartily disagreed with her on that prospect.

By the end of the first verse, Robin sighed and pushed himself up on his elbows and forced himself to start working on the observational essay for his mentor.


	4. Books & Boys

"So," Wally said, pointing his spoon at her, mouth full, over a bowl of cheerio's. "What _do_ you like anyway?"

Flamethrower swallowed a mouthful of cereal and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know… I though I told you! Setting off some of Artemis's Explosive Arrows yesterday was pretty fun." She motioned with her spoon and grinned.

"_You did what?!"_ There was a cry of disgust from the hallway.

"Yeah, yeah," Wally took another spoon of his cheerio's. "But that doesn't count. _Everyone_ likes blowing stuff up."

Someone snorted into their orange juice.

It had been over a week since Flamethrower had become part of the YJL. Though everyone had a bit of a rocky start, she was starting really to get accepted by the other members. Conner stopped growling at her and Artemis stopped glaring at her when they passed in the hallway. Flamethrower was even invited by M'Gann to go shopping but denied on the premise that she was severely allergic towards it.

She was the pretty talkative type, but never really talked about herself and so at the moment – over breakfast – Wally was trying to wring her out for information. So far, they had found out that she had absolutely no idea how to play the clarinet, she was good at cooking tv meals and she liked to blow things up.

"I don't know… I don't really have any talents or whatever and I haven't found anything that I really like yet." Flamethrower shrugged and lifted her cereal bowl to her mouth, slurping down the rest of the milk at the bottom of her bowl.

Here at the mountain (with a robotic nanny and a female Jacky Chan who seemed to be only summon-able by the smell of blood) there were few rules and none of them included using manners as a must. Everyone had gotten a little rusty.

"But surely," Kaldur entered the kitchen and perched himself on one of the stools beside the counter. "You can not be serious."

Flamethrower's eyebrows dropped and she wiped her mouth on her arm with a flourish.

"I am serious… And don't call me Shirley."

Flamethrower burst out laughing. Kaldur raised his eyebrows, Robin ignored her for his newspaper and Conner shot her a dark look over his green plastic bowl. It was a while until the laughter subsided and Flamethrower had to wipe her eyes.

"No _that,_" Flamethrower slapped the table, "was a good movie."

"Movie?" M'Gann looked at her quizzically.

"Yeah." Flamethrower nodded. "Yeah, that quote was from the movie _Airplanes!_ Classic." No one showed any reaction, so she continued. "I'm sure you've seen it. No? So, basically – I'm sure you'll all remember it as soon as I describe it – there's this airplane and everyone on the airplane gets sick, including the pilots and so this guy who is afraid of flying has to land the plane and basically, the whole movie is a bunch of one liners." she chuckled. "Who ever wrote it was just trying to stuff as many gags into one piece of literature as possible."

"At this one part there's this doctor – who was on the plane – and the guy who has to land the plane and the doctor asks him 'Can you fly this plane and land it?' and the guy says 'Surely you can't be serious?' and the doctor says 'I am serious…and don't call me Shirley.'" There, Flamethrower paused and look expectantly at the rest of the Young Justice.

Everyone kind of looked at one another and shrugged or shook their heads.

"You haven't seen it? Awww… I thought everyone had seen that one… What about this one." She picked up her glass of orange juice.

"'Here's to lookin' at you, kid.'"

Again, silence.

"Really? But those are like classics! Maybe not _Airplanes!_ but you've got to admit _Casablanca_ is an old classic."

"We don't really have time to watch movies." Artemis shrugged from the doorway. "There always seems to be a bank robbery or a villain destroying a city block. Plus, I don't know about you, but I have better things to do than watch some sappy comedy that a bunch of people though was good."

"What about Star Wars? You must have seen _that!_ That was like the backbone of my childhood!" Flamethrower glanced around at them all, seemingly on the verge of panic.

Wally finally piped up. "Wait, isn't that in, like, space or something?" Flamethrower nodded enthusiastically at him. "And there are like spaceships too…" Flamethrower gave him double thumbs up, face a mask of hope.

"And isn't there like this saying…uh…" Wally scratched his head, then held up his hand with his index finger and middle finger touching and his fourth finger and his pinkie touching. "Oh yeah, like 'Live Long and Prosper?'"

Flamethrower facepalmed.

Kaldur pulled his scarf a little higher, so that it covered his nose as well as his chin and glanced at Flamethrower, who was standing beside him. Seeing her in nothing but shorts and a pullover in this weather just made him _feel_ cold. Flamethrower only wore t-shirts (never long sleeves) and shorts, rarely long pants. Artemis had laid a bet with Wally that she only owned actually one pair of long pants – the jeans she wore on the first day they met her (though they hadn't seen her wear them since). She barely even wore her winter coat, preferring sweatshirts, sweaters and her black fleece vest that had the _Harley Davidson_ insignia sewn on the back.

Robin had actually developed _and_ proven a theory that Flamethrower's core body temperature was actually a few degrees higher than the normal human's of 37.0 0C, based on the fact that her body was designed to cope with being surrounded by fire for a longer period of time than the average human. No one believed him until he dug up a pair of Thermal Imaging goggles that no one knew they had and demonstrated to everyone that Flamethrower glowed yellow through the filter instead of the orange of normal people.

The red stoplight turned to walk and Flamethrower and Kaldur set off across the street. The breath of everyone around then misted, creating clouds that streamed behind them and then dissipated into the cold air. Most of the people wore jackets, others scarves and only a few people wore hats. Flamethrower and Kaldur made a curious couple, one in very little clothing for the type of weather and the other bundled up in a thick coat, scarf, gloves, long pants and a hat.

Kaldur didn't do weather well. Down in Atlantis (which is underwater – just clarifying), the temperature range of the water varied very little from warm-ish in the summer and cool-ish in the winter – occasionally there was a warm current or cold current that passed through the walled city, but only during extreme days. Seasons were one of Kaldur's least favourite things up on the land, next to drunk drivers and washing the dishes (the dirty brown dishwater and waste absorbed by his hands made Kaldur feel yucky and filthy). The temperatures and weather shifted constantly on land – cold one day and hot the next. During the winter, he froze (literally; because Atlanteans have a higher percentage of body fluid, their body fluid also having a higher concentration of water) and during the summer he roasted in the heat and felt bloated all the time (water expands with heat). Spring was Kaldur's favourite season, before Autumn, than Winter and Summer tied for last. But enough of Aqualad's seasonal preferences.

After the terrible discovery that between the six original Young Justice members, there wasn't enough knowledge of the Star Wars series to differentiate it from Star Trek (Flamethrower had described the lot of them as 'disgraces to mankind' and 'un-educated and uncultured' and was gifted a punch from Artemis), she had announced that she was going to take a trip out to the city, to pick up some 'essential education material', _even though_ Robin had been planning for days to use her handprint and voice pattern to rewire the security systems to recognizer her when she came in. Flamethrower waved him off, promising to do it when she returned. Kaldur had some things he needed to pick up in the city and decided to accompany her outside. (Around now, he was starting to regret it.) They had left, leaving a furious Robin shouting after them. He sometimes got mad when things didn't go his way.

Now, Flamethrower and Kaldur walked through West Happy Harbour, looking in windows of shops and entering those that had heaters. The one Flamethrower was looking for was a small store off on a side street, smooshed between a 'culinary arts' store and a corner store. The paint had pealed from the storefront, leaving it mostly wood and the books in the front window were stacked so high, Kaldur couldn't see in unless he stood on his tiptoes. Leaning back, Kaldur could see the name of the bookstore _Al and Co._ made of copper above the front widow, old and oxadized, streaks of green decorating the lumpy gray bricks below it. At least the inside was heated.

Kaldur entered after Flamethrower, the door jingling, a wave of warm air coming to meet them. Kaldur sighed, happy to be back in warmth and took off his gloves to start getting his cold-stiff hands moving again and looked around. The door was set against the left wall of the shop that was covered in posters for old movies and events that had transpired long ago. Kaldur even spied an old faded one advertising for the opening of some movie more than 20 years ago.

The shop itself was only one open space that was relatively thin and fairly long, extending for shelves and shelves to the back were there was a bead curtain that blocked the way to a back room. The counter was along the left wall, about halfway to the back wall, with an old man sitting behind it, snoring, glasses slipping from his nose.

The walls of the shop were covered in books. Kaldur couldn't even see the yellowing paint between the shelves that lined the whole space, books double and even triple parked on the old wooden bookshelves. There were also shelves in the center of the floor, down the middle of the shop, books piled so tall both in and on top of them that you couldn't see over. Kaldur barely managed to catch a glance of Flamethrower as she made a beeline towards the bead curtain at the back of the shop and disappeared behind it.

Kaldur wandered between the bookshelves, trailing his hand along the spines of the books, breathing in the smell of old paper and leather. He had never been much of a reader (mostly because books were hard to keep in good condition back home in Atlantis) and he preferred being active and doing things with his hands instead of sitting silently and reading. He envied Robin and M'Gann sometimes for being able to sit still and read or surf the web for hours on end.

Some of the books on the shelves were so old that the spines hung off at weird angles and the pages were yellow and stuck together. A couple times, Kaldur pulled one out to look at it, to flip through the pages and stare at the small black letters crowding every page and to smell the musky scent of the old paper near the spine. One time, he pulled a book out, only to find that both covers were stuck to the two books beside it and a whole pile of old books bumped to the floor as he pulled.

The sound of falling books woke the old man at the counter with a start and he sat up quickly, staring around wide-eyed until he spotting the disturbance and muttered something that sounded incredibly similar to 'ducking lids'.

A clatter of wooden beads announced Flamethrower back from her quest in the back room and she quickly hurried over to Kaldur to help him pick up all the books around his feet. Once they shoved the last three back on the shelves, the two teenagers picked their way back to the counter and the grumpy old man wrung up and bagged Flamethrower's stack of DVDs, shooting Kaldur annoyed looks all the while.

Finally, Flamethrower scrunched the receipt into her pocket, grabbed the plastic bag from the counter – thanking the grumpy old man (who mumbled under his breath) – and the two of them stepped back out into the cold air.

Kaldur paused to put on his gloves again and Flamethrower swung her plastic bag full of DVDs around her legs, waiting for him. Just as he was adjusting his second glove, Kaldur felt Flamethrower jerk to a stop beside him. He looked up to see her staring across the street and before he could ask about it, she grabbed his coat sleeve and dragged him in the opposite direction than they should have been going and straight into the corner store. There, she stared out of the front window, a disbelieving look on her face. Kaldur peered through the dirty glass, trying to figure out what or who it was Flamethrower was so enthralled by. His closest guess could only be the two teenage boys leaning against a storefront across the street, watching people as they walked by.

The tall, muscly boy was Hispanic, his long dyed black hair combed neatly. He had a smirk on his face and was flipping something shiny in his big hands. The other boy looked smaller than he actually was, hunched over a PSP. He was well bundled up, his hat pulled low and his collar pulled up to hide his face, his pale hands standing out starkly against his navy blue felt trench coat. The pair of boys wore weird mix-and-match clothes that were riddled with rips and wholes and frayed seams. Both wore dark coloured clothing with some article of dark blue (the PSP boy's coat and the Hispanic boy's fingerless gloves and jeans).

The two Young Justice members stared at them from inside the store for at least two minutes until Kaldur got bored. All they were doing was standing there, watching people go buy, the occasional comment passing between the two.

"Do you know these boys?" Kaldur poked Flamethrower in the shoulder, but she ignored him. "Why must they not see us?" Again, nothing.

Looking around, Kaldur found himself in the corner store. Sighing, he pulled out a list from his pocket. Might as well do some of his shopping here.

The JLA pays for and delivers most of the groceries for the Young Justice hq, but their bill only covers the basics. If the YJ members had specific food preferences, it was up to them so go out and get them on their own.

Wally had just made his was through a large jar of peanut butter in less than 48 hours and M'Gann had used the last of the chocolate chips making muffins the other day, so Kaldur took this opportunity to restock. The corner store didn't have _everything_ on the list, but only Robin really knew where to get his favourite French coffee. It would probably do the teenager some good to take a break from having three cups of coffee every single morning for over a week straight.

Kaldur brought all the things he needed to the counter and still Flamethrower was staring out the window, her face like a thunderhead. He thanked the lady at the cash and came to stand beside her, once again peering out of the dirty front window to get a look at the street. The boys were gone from their storefront, but they had left behind them some dark blue graffiti scribble on the brick wall right beside where they had been standing.

Hoping to shake Flamethrower out of her stupor, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him and apologized.

"I have bought all I need. If you wish to leave now, I am ready." he said.

She blinked and shook her head. "Yeah, lets go. Sorry 'bout that."

He nodded and they exited the store together, thanking the cashier lady on the way out.

The rest of the trip back home to Mount Justice was uneventful. Flamethrower spent most of it staring at the ground in concentration, her browns knitted and eyes cloudy. Kaldur chose not to disturb her and they walked home in silence.


	5. Windows & Watches

Artemis slid her chair back and propped her feet up on the table. Leaning forward, she grabbed a glass of water and downed it in one gulp and wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

"C'moooon. You said supper was going to be ready like ten minutes ago." Artemis looked at the clock nervously. "I've gotta be places."

It was almost eight thirty. Robin was still plugging Flamethrower into the security system because she had decided to go for a romp around town earlier this morning with Kaldur tagging along. Usually all the Young Justice members ate meals together, at the same time when they were in Mount Justice, but people had things to do and the meal had ended up being pushed back and hour. Unfortunately for Artemis (who couldn't even microwave popcorn to save her life), she had some 'things' to do and couldn't wait around for the Boy Wonder to fulfill his paranoiac tendencies. His 'plugging into the security system' included triple copies of individual fingerprints on both hands, hand prints, foot prints, weight averages, face recognition and photos wearing five different sets of clothing including a gas mask and a set of ski goggles, walking and speaking patterns, super power recognition as well as checks, double checks and triple checks. Wally had claimed that Robin had made him do urine samples when he was getting logged in.

M'Gann hurried over to the table with a plate of steaming food and passed it to Artemis.

"Sorry, the beans took longer than I thought." M'Gann took a seat beside her and tucked her hands underneath her. "Sooo, where d'you have to be?"

"You know, family stuff…" Artemis tucked in to the spaghetti and meatballs (with green beans on the side: M'Gann sure was good at making sure everyone at their veggies around here.)

M'Gann nodded slowly.

_If they don't ask, don't deliver._ Artemis's family life was not something she liked talking about. The other YJ members didn't flaunt information about their families either, but Artemis didn't exactly have the kind of family she wanted to brag about.

Wally, on the other hand… The lucky kid, _his_ family, now there was something to look at. Nephew of Barry Allen, the one and only Flash as well as having another handful of family members being prominent scientists in the inventions world. Artemis really wished she had a family to be proud of.

Finishing her meal in a record time of 2 minutes and 13 seconds, Artemis jumped from her chair and jogged her plate to the sink. Thanking M'Gann for the meal (who had wandered off to get everyone else's food ready) with her mouth still full, she booked it from the kitchen only bending to grab her quiver on the way out.

It was Conner's turn to wash the dishes. After adding everyone else's empty plates and dirty cutlery to Artemis's already cold ones, the pile seemed a little daunting. Also, Conner wasn't exactly what you would call the World's Best Human Dish Washer and so he grudgingly turned on the hot water and poured dish soap in the sink.

The others were still hanging around the kitchen, having just finished eating. M'Gann was wiping down the table, Wally was tracing doodles on the wet surface, Robin was still sitting in his chair, already working on some project on his wrist computer and Kaldur was leaning against the wall. Flamethrower sauntered in to the kitchen having just left.

"Guys," All the heads turned toward her. "I'm…I'm not feeling too hot, so I'm going to hit the sack early, 'kay?" Everyone nodded and she wished them good night, heading up to the rooms.

The rest of the Young Justice members eventually drifted out, most of them heading to bed or to (in Robin's case) the computer, leaving Conner in the kitchen to finish up with the dishes. One particular pan was giving him grief with a sticky black stain and – in frustration – Conner by accident bent it in half. He growled and chucked the now L shaped pan into the draining board with a bit too much force. The drying rack skidded across the counter and tipped onto the floor, the clean cutlery skidding everywhere and one of the plates cracking clean in half.

About to do something in anger (most likely grab the darn draining board and hurl it across the room), Conner took a couple steps in the direction of the fallen dishes, face twisted in frustration but stopped when he felt a hand on his arm.

The cutlery and then the plates trembled and rose into the air and landed back in the draining board, which in turn landed back in its place beside the sink.

"Thanks, M'Gaan." Conner sighed.

She smiled back up at him. "No problem. Here, I'll help you with those."

It was almost pitch black when Flamethrower inched over the windowsill of her room and looked down to the perfectly manicured grass lawn 30 feet below. For a supposedly deserted secret hq-in-a-mountain, the JLA sure kept their gardening up. She slung her pack over her shoulder and grabbed the frame of the window; hoisting herself into a crouching position, face to the glass. Slowly, she slid the window closed, breath catching as she heard the window click locked. Now she really didn't have a choice, she couldn't go back now. Only forward.

Flamethrower looked down between her legs and spied a foothold and transferred her feet down to it. Slowly she managed to shimmy down the rock face (Mount Justice is, after all, a mountain complete with crags and ledges and hand and foot holds). Occasionally, when the going got tough, Flamethrower had to convince herself it was just like climbing the sides of the big brick buildings downtown and continued on.

It took her 20 minutes to reach the bottom of the mountain from her window. Though her arms were shaking slightly with exhaustion, she didn't stop and throwing cautions to the wind, sprinted low across the grass towards the cover of the trees. Once in the trees, Flamethrower paused to take a breath and then carried on down the slowly sloping hill.

Flamethrower felt terribly guilty for sneaking out like this. She really appreciated the respect that her new friends had given her. They didn't treat her weird because she could conjure up flames with her bare hands and neither did they treat her like gum stuck to the bottom of their shoes. She felt really terrible – but not terrible enough to go back. This was something she _had_ to do. This was a life and death situation. And plus, if all went according to plan, Flamethrower would be back home and snoring in her bed before anyone noticed she was gone.

Before leaving the dark cover of the trees for the road, Flamethrower drew off her pack and emptied it onto the leafy ground. Out fell bundles of clothes and some other equipment; a light gray turtle neck, her black fleece _Harley Davidson_ vest, a pair of old, ripped black jeans and even older pair of black converse as well as some small and thin pieces of metal secured with an elastic band, a flash light, some bus tickets and a black bandana. Exchanging her brand new, nice blue polo shirt, white shorts and deck shoes for her old clothes on the ground, Flamethrower also puled a black hat from the pocket of her vest and stuck that over her head as well, putting the black bandana instead in its place.

Suddenly, there was a deep rumbling sound and two bright lights raked the foliage beside the road. Flamethrower dropped into a crouch and froze, narrowed eyes searching the road. In a couple seconds, a car roared past her hiding spot and off into the distance. Flamethrower let out a breath but didn't move until she could no longer hear the sound of the beast's engine. Once it was gone, she quickly stuffed her new clothes into her backpack and spread her hands along the leafy ground to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. Satisfied that all was well, Flamethrower peeked out of the cover of the branched and leaves. No one was around so she slipped out of the trees and onto the road, setting her course south, heading for the East side of Happy Harbour, settling into a fast jog to ward off the night chill.

When she passed the first buildings that made up the wharf of Happy Harbour, Flamethrower slowed to a brisk walk and checked her watch. It was about twelve thirty, making it forty-five minutes since she left her room. Right on time. Looking around, she kept walking down the side of the road, keeping to the shadows.

Flamethrower spotted the bus stop after five minutes. She couldn't see the bus near it so she stopped for a moment to tie her black bandana around her neck and adjust it high so that it covered most of the lower part of her face. Flamethrower knew from experience that getting recognized by someone at this time of night never ended up well, especially because the people who usually roamed during this area at this part of the night were never fun to mess with.

The bus shelter was empty (thankfully) but Flamethrower stuck to the shadows beside the street lamp instead. Most of the street was empty as well which was also a relief. Flamethrower checked her watch again. The bus she was waiting for should have been here by now. It was a 12:50 bus and the time was 12:53.

Flamethrower knew the buses were often late, but still, it made her nervous. She should be completely at ease in this part of town, but after seeing Chix and Paul at _Al_'s in the west part of Happy Harbour, she couldn't help but glancing behind her every once and a while.

The bus was seven minutes late. Flamethrower breathed out in relief and jumped out of the shadows to flag the bus down. She had been pacing for seven minutes, her mind vomiting the most distasteful outcomes of the night if the bus didn't come. Of course, only 20% of the variations she imagined were actually likely to happen, but 20% is a big number depending on how you look at it.

The bus ride took about ten minutes (as predicted), leaving Flamethrower watching the taillights of the bus disappearing around a corner at 1:07 am. Having left a bit of buffer time in her planning, Flamethrower set off at a fast trot as to not waste any more time, disappearing into the shadows of an alley way.

Across the street, Artemis stared after her. She had just returned from her 'family stuff' and was waiting for a bus to take her home. Artemis had just been glancing around when she had spotted a familiar figure getting off the bus across the street. There was no doubt who that was, only doubt in what she was doing. She was tempted to let Flamethrower go, but the girl had been acting weird since she had come back from her outing this morning. Not quite her springy, happy-go-lucky self. Distracted instead, worried, like her brain was working at lightning pace to try and process something that she couldn't understand. Plus, the way she was dressed in dark clothes with a bandana hiding her face and the cautious looks she had thrown about her when she had stepped off the bus. Not to mention how she had glanced urgently at her watch and hurried off in a set direction. It wasn't sitting well with Artemis. Not at all.

Setting a hand on the quiver strapped to her back (disguised as a one-shoulder pack), she set off across the street and down the alleyway, after Flamethrower.

As she entered into the shadows between the buildings, Artemis slid back her sleeve and pressed the call button on her watch.


	6. Crates & Comrades

Mr. Cane used to have a crate-making factory near the harbour.

It started as a small business, but soon grew quite large when the fishermen and tankers whose crates broke apart out on the rough sea came to buy crates for their boats. Mr. Cane's crates were cheap and decent quality, so the buyers were quite happy having a supplier so close to the port.

Unfortunately, Mr. Cane's Crate Company signed its own death warrant when the fishermen and tankers asked that the crated be made out of thicker, stronger and more durable materials. For a while, the crate business boomed as everyone from around came to buy Mr. Cane's strong and durable crates. Crates were produced in different sizes (including half sizes) and colours as well as crate accessories like straps to hold the crates down and even crates with removable lids.

Once everyone had bought their fill of crates, problems started to appear. Mr. Cane had made his crates _too_ durable. One crate could last ten or more years and so no one wanted to buy his marvellous crates anymore. The used-to-be crate empire of Mr. Cane's fell into debt and then into bankruptcy. They emptied their factories and had to let go of their workers, but still didn't have enough money to continue. Mr. Cane didn't even have enough money to tear down his factory.

It was this factory that Flamethrower was heading towards at the moment. It was now old and abandoned – of course – and covered in ivy and surrounded by weeds. It stood tall and foreboding, surrounded by modern skyscrapers that made it look even more desolate than it really was. The sigh had been bleached by the sun and was sitting at a crazy angle, hanging down close to the doors. The doors were still solid and sound but the paint had been chipped off long ago and the dull metal sported an out of place black scorch mark on the right side.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Flamethrower climbed the chain like fence (I mean, who ever uses the door anyway? It was wrapped in chains and no one had ever bothered to cut it open) and approached the door and rapped hard on it three times. The metal doors amplified the knocks and the alleyway rang with the sound. Flamethrower winced slightly, but didn't move. Hopefully she wouldn't wake anybody up.

"Open up, come on." She said to the door. "I've got something real important for the big guy."

There was no answer. She knocked again.

"Awww, come ooooon. I know you guys are listening. Just open the god damn door fast." If there was a book called _Maintaining and Guarding Secret Bases for Dummies_, rule number one would be that you should never answer the person who is outside the door unless you are _absolutely sure_ who they are and whether or not they are alone. For example, if you say 'no, there's no one here', then there obviously is. The only problem with this rule is if there really is no one there, you are stuck talking to a metal door for fifteen minutes.

"Seriously. Guys, just let me in. Patts, Ryo, Daywalker, get your asses over here and open this freaking door!" Flamethrower pounded her fist against the door, starting to get pissed, not bothering about the noise she was making.

"Oi, last time. Open the door. It me, you know who I am. Open the god damn door and I won't blow it off its hinges."

A cicada started whining off somewhere in the dark.

"Okay. That's cool – hey, look! The scorch mark I put on this door four months ago is still here! Y'all haven't scrubbed it off yet. Want me to add another one? Actually, lets see if I can beat my high score!" Pushing back the right sleeve of her gray turtleneck, she conjured up a watermelon-sized fireball in her fist and drew her arm back as if she was about to sock the door.

_"Crap, its Double F."_ Urgent whispers wormed through the crack between the doors.

_"No shit, Sherlock. Now are you gonna wait for her to blow the god damn door off its god damn hinges, or are you gonna open her up?!"_

_"Openthedooropenthedooropenth edoor!"_

There was a clicking sound and a grating as the two big metal doors slowly started to draw inward. Beyond the doors was only darkness.

Two heads popped up from either side of the door, one with cotton candy pink hair and freckles, the other in a cloud of smoke with the glowing end of a cigarette poking out of it.

"Look who the cat dragged in! Double F, long time no see!" The boy with cotton candy pink hair grinned at Flamethrower.

"You're freaking right its me, Patts." Flamethrower grinned back and extinguished the fireball in her hand. "Hey Matches. Has your blood turned to liquid nicotine yet?"

Artemis watched Flamethrower from the shadow of a doorway as she punched the pink haired boy in the shoulder and followed the cigarette other one into the old building. The big metal doors were closed behind the trio and the click of the lock snapping shut could be heard even from where Artemis was hiding.

Raising her wrist to her face, she pressed a button on it and whispered into it.

"What's your estimated arrival time?"

There was a beep and a second of pause then a voice crackled from the tiny speaker.

"Estimated arrival time is 6 minutes. Stay put until I arrive, Artemis."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Just get here quick. I'm going in for a closer look."

"I just said – ugh, never mind. Be careful."

"This is Artemis, out." Artemis grabbed her bow from her back and opened it with a snap.

"This is Robin, out."

The Base (as they called it) looked exactly the same as it had the last time she had been there. Flamethrower looked around at the bare electric bulbs and the stacks upon stacks of crates that lined the walls and sighed. Home sweet home.

The entrance of the old factory was in makeshift tent made of thick, heavy curtains, so if someone on the outside got a look inside by mistake, all they would see would be pitch black, instead of a secret base made of crates and scrappy pieces of technology.

Inside the actual factory itself, desks, tables, chairs and storage were constructed of crates tied, glued and melted together (the latter being the courtesy of our one and only Flamethrower). The corners of the immense space were shrouded in darkness because of the limited lighting as well as the huge beams that crisscrossed across the vaulting roof. No one noticed a black figure slip in from a broken window and scurry along the beams into the darkness of the ceiling.

As Flamethrower entered, flanked by Patts and Matches, the other four people sitting around the factory stood and converged on them.

"Double F!" A pale red head exclaimed, exchanging a half made switchboard for a brofist with the newcomer.

"Daywalker, man. The new cams outside are looking awesome. I wouldn't have spotted then if I hadn't known where to look." Daywalker beamed.

A thin, short brown haired boy limped over, supported by a tall blond one. The shorter one had a cast on his arm and a bandage over a healing broken nose.

"Iceman, not looking too hot. I didn't know anyone loved you enough to give you such a good going over."

Iceman chuckled weakly. "Nice ta seeya too, 'F."

"Sucker Punch, my man. Have you been going to the gym? Looks like you've let yourself slip a bit, bro."

The big blond Sucker Punch laughed and enveloped Flamethrower in a crushing bear hug. Of course, Flamethrower was joking because Sucker Punch was in top form, biceps bulging and shoulders huge under his fur-hooded coat.

Once man-hugs and high fives were exchanged and Flamethrower caught her breath, the boys parted to reveal a sixth boy in a red jacket and white t-shirt, waiting for a greeting.

"_Ryo!"_ Flamethrower shouted and ran to him, hugging him with all her might (which was quite a bit).

"Hey there, 'F." The tall, black hair boy grinned crookedly. "Its been a while."

"Man, I have _so_ much to tell you – to tell you _all_." Flamethrower hugged him tighter and then let go.

"Did ya miss me?" she grinned up at him. There was quite a gap in their heights, Flamethrower being roughly '5"3 and Ryo '6"1.

"Not a _bit_." Ryo laughed and putting Flamethrower in a headlock, gave her a nuggy.

"Liar." Flamethrower squirmed.

The two tussled for a bit and then Ryo let her go.

"_Someone's_ been training." He put an elbow on her shoulder.

"You kidding? Day and night." Flamethrower brushed his arm off.

Ryo chuckled and then turned to the rest of the boys. "Okay, breaks over. Lets see if we can get the new system up and running."

"_God,"_ Flamethrower shoved her tall friend. "Who died and made you boss?"

"Runner." Patts muttered, eyes to the floor.

Flamethrower rolled her eyes. "No, seriously. I've gotta talk to the big man. Where is he?"

There was a silence and Ryo turned his back to Flamethrower.

"Runner. Runner did."

Flamethrower couldn't believe it. "What – ?" She screwed up her face.

"Whaddaya mean? Runner's not dead." she scowled.

"Dead as a doornail." Matches said in his husky voice and let out a long plume of smoke.

There was another long and uncomfortable silence in which Daywalker shifted back and forth.

"Shit." Flamethrower had turned pale. She tottered over to a crate and collapsed onto it. Removing her hat, she ran her fingers through her hair and swore again.

"_Shit._" She put her head in her hands and let out a long breath. The six boys watched her. Finally, she turned to look at them.

"How-how'd it happen? When?" Flamethrower swallowed.

"Six days ago." Iceman said, solemnly. "Down by the docks." he dissolved into a fit of coughing.

Ryo motioned to the boys and Patts grabbed a crate from the stack near the wall. Sucker Punch lowered Iceman onto it and Matches poured the contents of a well-crinkled plastic water bottle into a Styrofoam cup for him. Iceman had never been in good health. He was thin and sickly, apparently the doctors said he had a whole in his heart, but they couldn't do anything about it. He looked worse than normal today.

"It was a job," Ryo continued for Iceman, "We got wind that Block and his gang were meeting someone out on the pier in the middle of the night. Didn't know who or why but Runner though it was something worth checking out. You remember how Block was actin' all weird before – " Flamethrower nodded. "And Runner figured it best to see what he was up to. It was him, Iceman – "

"And me." Wheezed Matches. He was hooked on cigs, a chain smoker since sixth grade, his lungs like living tar. "I was on lookout. We got there just before Block and his gang, three of us and four of them: Timbo, Valentina and Monty. Runner posted me with eyes on the road. I saw them approaching and called a warning. They was under a boat– "

"_Were._" Daywalker scowled at the older boy's back.

"They _was_ under the boat," Matches glared back, "and halfway through the meeting Runner decided he wanted a closer look." he puffed his cigarette sourly. Disgusted, he threw it to the ground and drew another one from his polyester jacket pocket. Striking a match, he shielded his new smoke but his hands shook so hard that he couldn't light it.

"I told him it was too dangerous." Iceman coughed but kept talking. "But he wanted to hear what Block and the stranger on the dock were saying. He crept under it and along, positioning himself just underneath Block. I heard yelling and Block suddenly made for shore. Runner couldn't see too well in the dark and the charges went off before he made it clear of the blast radius."

Here, Ryo took over again.

"Matches was far enough from the explosion that all he got was the shockwave. Iceman, not so lucky. He got knocked up quite a bit." he motioned to Iceman, who grinned and held up his cast.

"Broken arm, three broken ribs, busted nose and a punctured lung. Got out of hospital yesterday morning." his grin was lopsided and bittersweet, though he did look secretly proud of himself.

"And Runner?" the mood turned solemn again.

"Didn't make it to the hospital." Patts said quietly. "Doc said he had so many burns on his face that his own mother wouldn't have recognized him. Even if he _was_ alive, he wouldn't be able to live without his precious face." Everyone chuckled quietly.

"Block?"

"Not a scratch. The crook made it to the end of the pier. Got knocked on his face from the shockwave but was so scared he got right back up and kept running." Patts shook his head. "His gang followed right behind him, tails between their legs. I bet –," Here, the pink-haired boy gestured with a hand that had magically conjured up a pocketknife. " – I bet he's hidin' real well under a rock right now, too scared to come out because he know that if he does, the fuzz are gonna slap him in chains for killing an innocent kid down at the pier."

A couple people nodded silently then Sucker Punch perked up.

"What about that real important info that you wanted to tell us?" he asked.

"You won't believe this, but _guess_ who I saw at _Al.'s_ today." Flamethrower leaned forward on her crate, all eyes on her.

It was short work for Robin to find the old crate factory and even less work to enter it without being noticed. He crawled through a window, the pane broken long ago, and manoeuvred across the wooden beams to where a figure was crouching, watching the seven people below.

Artemis jumped when Robin touched her arm, almost falling off the beam. She breathed a sigh of relief to see the boy in a covert disguise (jeans and a black hoodie with his trademark sunglasses – yes, even at night) instead of his usual bright red tights. If she had said that out loud though, Robin would have killed her then and there so instead Artemis motioned to the people below and Robin settled down to watch.

There was a big looking blond fellow who looked like he had just asked a question, directed at a small figure in dark colours, sitting on a crate. The small figure on the crate said something and all the six figures leaned forward, as if they were waiting for something.

Robin couldn't hear what was said, but the effect was immediate and profound. The boy holding a knife started pacing and flipping it nervously. Another fell into a fit of coughs. The boy with the cigarette latched his hands behind his neck and groaned. Whatever the small person on the crate had said, it had had a big impact on the morale of the group. They started speaking to each other in elevated voices that Robin and Artemis could hear clearly from the rafters.

"What the _hell_ are Chix and Polly Pocket doing out on the west side? That's _Block's_ territory. Aren't those two in Blood Red Ramona's gang?" A ginger boy with no freckles wrung his hands in despair. "What is she doing in the west? Isn't she happy enough in the south?"

A tall boy in a red jacket shook his head. "I bet she heard about Block's incident. I bet she figured the exact same thing as we did. God, why didn't I see this earlier?" He turned and took a few steps then turned back. "I bet she thinks since he's out of the way for a bit, it wouldn't be too bad a time to enlarge her territory."

"Take over west?!" The boy with the cigarette rasped. "You can't be serious!"

"I though the same thing but dismissed it," the coughing boy sighed, "Even _I_ didn't think she was _that_ crazy."

"You should know her the best of all of us." The person on the crate said cynically, "Didn't you date her once?"

"Hey," the accused pointed a finger in defense. "That was a _long_ time ago, way before your time – "

"Oh, come on, you're not that much older than me, you're, what, seventeen eighteen?"

" – Eighteen and we were different people then. No territories, no gangs, no secret meetings in the dark of night that ended with a young kid like Runner – "

"He was the same age as you."

" – two months younger, getting blown to pieces under a dock!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." A couple people smirked despite the direness of the situation.

"You gotta calm down man, we was just joking." said the boy with the cigarette.

"_Were._" Someone whispered.

"Calm down and have a cig. Here." He reached into the pocket if his jacket and drew one out.

"Are you kidding? I have a punctured lung and bad breathing to begin with! One of those toxic things could kill me."

The other boy shrugged and returned the cigarette to his pocket. "Your loss."

"Oh _no_." The dark haired boy tensed.

"What is it?" The boy who had been flipping the knife up till now, stopped.

"If she knows about Block then she knows about Runner too."

"_Shit._"


	7. Lunatics & Lighter Fluid

Daywalker was officially panicking. If Blood Red Ramona was making a move on the territory of a gang with a shaken leader, how long would it take her to make her move on a gang with a dead one? Yeah, they had two metahumans; _one_ metahuman was as good as five normal people, but it's always the sixth one that gets you.

Daywalker did consider himself lucky, having landed himself in a gang that had first one, then _two_ teenagers with superpowers. Most other gangs didn't have a single one. One was a bit of a wild card sometimes, but the other – boy could that kid fight. He was a one-man tornado. Literally.

Daywalker nervously fiddled with a bit of wire that was supposed to fit into the switchboard he was working on. The others were conversing in low but urgent tones, but Daywalker was too nervous to think about difficult stuff right now. He was a technological man; working with wires and computers cost him no extra brain cells.

Trying to settle down, he wired his twisted wire into the circuitry on the back of the board and connected two points. There was a spark and some of the lights on the board flashed. Good, good. The system was ready for a try. He forgot all about his dead friend and the crazy warlord that could be storming up their front steps any moment; this was where he, Daywalker, belonged – amid blinking lights and green circuit boards.

Pulling his laptop onto his knees, Daywalker activated the controls for the new security system. The computer started to whine and some of the lights on the board at his feet flashed again but an error message popped up on his screen and the lights died. He hit the enter button again, reinitiating the boot-up. Again, the error message popped up on his screen and the switchboard refused to co-operate. How could it not work? Daywalker had wired the whole thing by hand, double and triple checking the blueprints.

Maybe yesterday, when Matches was leaning over it and his cigarette ashes fell between the wires? It must be that. Everything else went perfectly. About to stand up and gives Matches a what-for, Daywalker got his answer.

"The wire you just put in was frayed and the board short circuited. Try re-wiring it with this."

Daywalker accepted the copper wire spool offered and flipped over the board and sure enough, the new wire was separated into a million hairs at the middle point where he had been twisting it nervously.

"Oh, wow, thanks, I mean, I'm just so nervous and this is a habit I have and you know how bad habits get when you get nervous gee, I thought everyone was holding a war meeting over there but its good you weren't because I would of never have thought of that myself because, you know, I was too busy being nervous – "

Here Daywalker stopped. He was looking over at his friends. Ryo's red-jacketed back was facing him. Double F was standing at his side. Iceman was perched on a crate, rolling his eyes at Sucker Punch who was hovering over him nervously with another cup of water. Matches was deep in conversation with Ryo and Double F and Patts was nervously polishing his favourite pocket knife.

There was something wrong with this picture. Something _very_ wrong. And it only took the red head 1.03 seconds to figure it out.

"I'm telling you, we need to evac _now._ I bet you Ramona knows where our base is already and is just waiting for the perfect moment." Matches rasped urgently.

"There is no way she know where the Base is. Its _secret_, that the point." Ryo massaged his forehead. This was a mess. As acting leader he had to decide something fast.

"What if we – " The rest of whatever Flamethrower was going to say was interrupted by a scream.

Everyone whirled around to find Daywalker sprawled on the floor amid pieces of his prized switchboard. Standing casually beside him was a slim teenage boy in a dark hoodie with raven black hair and a pair of sunglasses.

"Cig Head is right, you know. There are a group of sixteen ugly-looking people marching down the alleyway to the chain-link fence that runs around the facility at this very moment." He picked his way through the mess around his feet, all casual like, because boys appearing out of thin air and wearing sunglasses at night is _completely normal_. "If I were you, I would escape now, while I could, or get ready to fight my way out."

Mass shock was the first reaction. The second was Matches.

"_Cig Head?!_" His husky voice rose two octaves.

There was movement overhead and a second figure dropped from heaven to land among them. This one was a girl in a green jacket with a long blond ponytail and a one-shouldered pack.

"You should trust him, you know, he hacked into your security system and watched the cameras while you children squabbled around down here."

This development too was met with mass shock.

"_Are you just going to stand here or are you going to get ready to fight?_" Artemis bellowed and everyone jumped into action.

Ryo dolled out instructions as boys scurried around, arming themselves with any weapon at hand; Patts—his pocketknife, Matches—a crowbar, Daywalker—a homemade Taser and Sucker Punch… well, he didn't really need a weapon. He had two growing out of his wrists.

Amid all the confusion and movement, one person had not taken a step.

Flamethrower had just had the most severe brain-fart in the history of man and womankind.

"You…Robin…Artemis…Here…I…What…I don't even…" she was turning pale and starting to sweat. "You guys…Me…Here… Ryo, I don't… Oh my god…"

Artemis took two steps forward and five-stared her confounded and flabbergasted teammate in the face. That seemed to snap her out of her complete dumbfounded-ness. Still, she stared at Artemis with dinner plate sized eyes.

"What _you_ need to do now is to help your friends, ok?" Flamethrower nodded slightly. "You need to go help them protect this place." The younger girl took a big breath and nodded, more confidently this time. She looked over at Robin, who gave her an encouraging gesture and she dashed off.

"Okay, people, lets give Blood Red Ramona a nice warm welcome."

Watching her go, the Young Justice archer shook her head.

"God," Artemis's eyebrows dropped. "When this is over, she is going to have _hell_ to pay."

Robin was only half paying attention. "How many crates do you think they have in here?"

The knock on the big metal doors of the old crate factory resounded throughout the whole building.

"_Fasterfasterfasterfaster._" Matches motioned urgently with his hands.

Patts baulked slightly and sprayed the liquid from the plastic jug in his hands as fast as he could. When he wetted all the marked spots on the floor, the pink haired boy sprinted towards the door and threw the rest of the clear liquid over the thick sheets around the door. When the bottle was empty, he threw that too and sprinted back to where Matches was hiding. He had just dove behind some crates when a voice sounded out through the building.

"My condolences," smirked a voice, definitely female. "I heard about Runner and come as _quickly_ as I could. Let me in and maybe we can talk."

Everyone waited with baited breath. Robin had strictly instructed all of them _not_ to respond to any sort of provocation, not that anyone was really considering it anyway.

"Awww, has all this rough living stripped you of your manners? So un-gentlemanly, not rushing to open a door for a lady." You could hear her wicked smile in her voice.

"Oh, all right, if you want to play this way." Blood Red Ramona sighed, her sigh echoing in the huge space, "I don't have _all_ night, you know. I still have the north district to clean up tonight, after I'm done here."

Here voice decreased in volume as if she had turned away from the doors.

"Michael, blow them off their hinges. Pronto."

"On it."

There were some scraping noises and tapping noises and after an intense 2 minutes and 7 seconds, there was a click and the huge, gray, metal double doors of Mr. Cane's Crate Factory got blown of their hinges. They flew about ten feet inward and then crashed to the concrete floor.

There was smoke billowing in from the outside and nothing could be seen through it. When he judged the time right, Robin held up his first finger. An arrow whizzed through the smoke and debris, closely followed by two more. There were cries of pain and surprise as the arrows hit invisible targets.

Robin held up his second finger as well and a fourth arrow buried itself in the lighter fluid-drenched material around what used to be the doorway. Flames burst from it's tip and the whole structure caught fire. Burning material and metals stands fell in the path of the advancing group.

There were a good few minutes where everyone thought that Blood Red Ramona was retreating and gone for good. Unfortunately, she was simply waiting for the flaming debris to burn itself out. That it did in due time and when there was a path to walk through, she strode forward boldly with her gang following behind her.

Blood Red Ramona was a striking girl, lithe and fluid with a sharp face and angular lips, hair died bright red to match her lipstick. She even had a red leather trench coat that swirled around her as she walked.

Her goons circled into the empty factory, looking around and spreading out as she stalked in and looked around.

"I know you're in here." She yelled and laughed, her white teeth flashing. "Come out or I'll have to come in and find you!"

The crates were scattered everywhere, impeding movement, most stacked so high that you couldn't see over them. Red Ramona's crew slowly advanced weaving their way between the pillars and walls of plastic, on alert, looking for movement.

There was absolute silence, except for the footfalls of the teenagers searching and the wind that came whistling through the broken windows.

Ramona shook her head. There was something off. She had expected to burst in here, guns a-blazing and be met with a solid wall of offence. But there was no one here.

She watched as her gang went deeper into the field of crates, until all she could see of them were Florence, Conroy, Jeepers, Jinx and Pamma. The others were completely hidden, lost in the crates, looking for Runner's old gang. There was some shiny liquid on the floor and she almost slipped in it, striding toward the maze of crates. Then it struck her.

"Everyone _out!_" Blood Red Ramona yelled, but too late. From somewhere there came a crackling and fire raced from both sides of the room along the floor, skating on the shiny liquid, no, the _lighter fluid_ poured on the floor. She turned for the door but the flames had already met in a burning barrier between her and the exit.

Blood Red Ramona hissed at the flames as if she could make them part for fear like Moses and the red sea, but they ignored her. From beyond the flames she could see the distorted figures of the Runner's gang circling the flames and heading for the door. Whirling, the leader of the south gang laughed up into the ceiling, a cold and shrill laugh that made ever her followers shiver.

"That's _cute!_ Thinking of trapping us here and running like cowards?!" The lighter fluid spread on the concrete floor was enough to keep the fire burning for quite a while, ten minutes or so, and by then, Runner's old crew would be gone. Robin had made sure that there was nothing near the flames that could potentially catch fire and cause the building to go up in flames, but Murphy's Law is a strict one.

Matches gripped his crowbar a little tighter and glared through the flames at Blood Red Ramona who laughed at him, despite being trapped in a ring of fire. Patts grabbed his arm and the rest of them filed out, Flamethrower and Robin bringing up the back.

Before they made it close to the big metal double doors, Ramona cast out one last line, a last ditch attempt.

"Well well well, look who came _crawling_ back to her rat hole after _deserting_ for the first time. I can't believe they let you came back. Or maybe they were all missing the _female company_, Forest Fire."

Robin fully expected Flamethrower to ignore the comment and keep walking but she stopped dead. Blood Red Ramona's plan was working.

"And where did you even go? The _Justice League_?" The red girl smirked, showing her teeth like a wolf. "The people who throw trash like _us_ into chains? Everyone needs a hobby. What's yours—backstabbing?"

There, Flamethrower stiffened. She clenched and unclenched her fists as flames started to lick new red marks on her wrists. About to tough it out and keep walking but Ramona got there first.

"Their standards sure have dropped, to take in a multiple personality psychotic pyromaniac bitch like you!"

That was too much. Flamethrower turned slowly to face her and what Robin saw made his stomach drop a notch.

It reminded him of when he was back in the Bat Cave, when he was still under Batman's wing. Batman had taught Robin about humans and non-humans that could shape shift. Batman also taught him how to recognize when someone was posing as someone else by comparing the original's own postures, gestures, and distinct way of talking to the faker's. To Robin, it seemed as though M'Gann or Martian Manhunter were impersonating Flamethrower in a very un-realistic way.

It was her body, definitely, and her face, but it was not her.

The Other Flamethrower turned stood only inches from him and Robin took an involuntary step back. As Robin watched, it slowly started walking towards the ring of fire, with Blood Red Ramona's gang held inside. It had a different walk than Flamethrower's; where her's was a bit slouchy and she swung her shoulders as if she was carrying weight in her hands, it's—the Other Flamethrower's—was tall and precise, rolling heal to toe with every footfall.

Its eyes were wrong too. Instead of alive with emotion and twinkling with mischief, they didn't show anything. They were like two dead spheres shoved in it's head on either side of it's nose.

The rest of Runner's old gang had been waiting for the pair of them and cycled back to see the hold up. Matches, Sucker Punch and Ice Man groaned when they saw her tall back and slow gait. Ryo swore and held a hand out, motioning for everybody to stop moving and stay where they were.

"_Stay where you are. Do not move!"_ Ryo whispered under his breath to Robin and Artemis.

The fire that danced around the Other Flamethrower's hands left no marks. The flames licked their way its arms to it shoulders, incinerating the sleeves of its gray turtleneck shirt. They ripped across the back of its shoulders too, as if someone had doused the dark material with gasoline. The flames met at the back of its neck, completing a weird arc of fire that cracked and danced with heat. Because the shoulders and the back of Flamethrower's Harley Davidson vest had burned away, it dropped to the ground and lay smoking against the pavement.

Patts squirmed free from the tall dark haired boy's outstretched arm and ran up to his friend, blocking her path with his arms out. His friends called out to him to stop but he ignored them.

"Please, Forest Fire, _stop._" He looked as if he was on the verge of tears, and he choked to get the words out. "_Stop_, you don't have to do this." Patts grabbed the front of his friend's shirt, a tear tracing it's way down his freckled cheek. "I know you're in there, listen, _please._"

The Other Flamethrower didn't even hesitate when it backhanded Patts fifteen feet into the far wall.


	8. Arrows & Asphyxiation

Robin wasn't entirely sure what the correct course of action was.

These kinds of situations didn't come about much, and he was happy for it. He stood there, helpless, wincing involuntarily at the snap of one of the Other Flamethrower's metacarpals as it snapped on impact with Patt's jaw. The pink haired boy flew across the room and his head cracked against the gray concrete wall, leaving a dark stain and he slumped to the ground, not moving. The Other Flamethrower kept walking, as if nothing happened.

Ryo swore again and motioned to Sucker Punch who slowly shuffled over the where the still boy lay and checked his vital signs. After a couple seconds, the big blond boy gave a thumbs-up to the rest of them, signalling that Patts was still alive.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"You look like you're planning to go after her." Ryo grabbed both Robin and Artemis's sleeves. This wasn't a question, but more of a statement of the obvious.

"Well, don't." Ryo glanced back over his shoulder at the Other Flamethrower. "She, Forest Fire, has a split personality, one—her main one—normal, but the other…not exactly all there. When she slips into her other personality, she's extremely dangerous and, as you can see, will do anything to get to her goal, like hurting people." He said grimly. "Including the people she loves."

At this, Ryo pulled down the neck of his white t-shirt to show both of the Young Justice members the tip of a grotesque x-shaped burn on his chest.

"You'll get killed. The best thing we can do is get everyone out of here, and I'll try and stop her."

Robin had his doubts about that plan, but it was the only one there was. Robin had never observed Flamethrower in this state and had no idea how to go about defending against it. Yes, he had dealt with people with split personalities before, but none of them wielded uncontrollable fire and could _backhand people fifteen feet into a wall_. That strength wasn't _normal_. The Other Flamethrower must have developed super strength, which just made everything more complicated.

As the Other Flamethrower neared the ring of fire that trapped Red Ramona and her gang inside, the flames on the floor jumped higher and higher in the air. Robin had only calculated enough lighter fluid for 10 minutes of regular burning. The bigger flames consumed more lighter fluid than they were supposed to, shortening the burning time considerably.

Three minutes, Robin recalculated. Three minutes to get out of here.

But the flames didn't care about Robin's calculations and burned themselves out in a record breaking 5.4 seconds.

As soon as the fire disappeared, Blood Red Ramona's gang fanned them selves out behind her. This was going to turn into a full-fledged fight.

Robin's leader skills immediately kicked into action.

"Artemis, I want to skirt around the edges, keeping an eye out for everybody. Pick your targets and use arrows sparingly. No bodily harm, if possible." Robin looked back at the rest of the people at his back. The smoke boy and the big blond one could take care of themselves but the sickly looking one wouldn't be able to run, let alone fight. The pale red head…he would just have to be brave and help Matches and Sucker Punch.

"And Artemis, take that one with you." He motioned to Ice Man. "Keep an eye out for him."

Ice Man looked like he was about to argue but Robin cut him off.

"Look, we can drag this out or we can end this quickly. You'll be more useful as a pair of eyes than a dead body." Robin hadn't meant for it to come out that harsh but he didn't have time to try again.

Turning to Matches, Sucker Punch and Daywalker, Robin motioned to the crowed advancing toward them.

"You take the left, I'll take the right. Fight together, if you get separated, call of help. Artemis and your friend will be keeping an eye out for you if you do."

They nodded, Daywalker looking even _more_ pale then before, if that was even possible and everyone turned to face front.

They were easy enough to knock down but the problem was that they kept on getting back up.

Robin has easily dropped every single kid there, but they would just lie there for a count then drag themselves back to their feet. Matches and Sucker Punch were doing pretty well themselves, having put four people out for the count (with help from Artemis, of course). Daywalker just sort of hid behind their back and helped out with well-placed blows and the occasional trip. Robin by himself had contributed at least another four people to the pile and Artemis had kept many people from running out the door as well as saved a couple people's skins.

Blood Red Ramona's gang had made a loose sort of protection circle around her and the Other Flamethrower, stopping anybody from getting close. At the moment, Robin was helping clear a path for Ryo, so the older boy could get to the center of the mass. Even though they were all street kids, every single one of them would be able to stand at least fifteen or twenty seconds against Black Canary—which was a compliment, mind you. Most bad guys barely even caught a glimpse of her before she flying fan kicked them in the head.

In the center of the mass were the two; Ramona and the Other Flamethrower, duking it out, with fire and blood. Yeah, blood. Turns out Blood Red Ramona was a metahuman as well, with the ability to make her blood harden on command (hence the name, eh?).

Using a rung on her thumb, she had sliced three long stripes down the inside of each forearm and let the blood stream down around her hands. There, it hardened into crystals, as red claws on her fingers and pointy bits on her knuckles. Robin half couldn't wait to get back to the mountain to analyze her power.

The Boy Wonder ducked as Ryo grabbed someone by the collar and chucked them threw the air ,right into the spot where Robin had been before.

"Sorry." The older boy grunted as he took a blow to the stomach and returned it twice as hard.

"Just a little farther…" Ryo shouldered his way past two more people and recoiled as flames blossomed right in front of his face.

"Go ahead." Robin joined him, as he hesitated. "I'll watch your back."

Ryo nodded and closed his eyes. Robin had _no idea_ what he was doing, as he had originally thought that Ryo was going to try and talk Flamethrower back or wallop her over the head or something.

Ryo raised his arms and there was instantly wind in the factory. It whistled through the beams in the roof and plucked at people's clothes and hair. Robin almost lost his sunglasses (which would have been a disaster) but pushed them back up before they could fly off.

The wind picked up, blowing in a circular motion around the room, concentrating around the two metahumans fighting in the center of the floor. It was almost the exact same sensation as whenever Red Tornado whipped up on of his babies in an enclosed space. Robin and Artemis shared a glance from across the room.

A small tornado was now closing in on the pair, Ryo working it up until it ripped at the inside of the roof.

Ramona sliced at the Other Flamethrower's face with her claws, drawing blood. In response, the Other Flamethrower roared—_roared _, like a _mountain cat_—and chucked a huge fireball in her direction. Both sported injuries; Ramona—burns on her arms and her hair smoked a little bit and the Other Flamethrower—a cut on its face that dripped off its chin and four shallow parallel furrows from underneath its arm to its stomach.

Blood Red Ramona stumbled and fell, scraping her hands and knees on the floor. The Other Flamethrower reached down and grabbed her neck with fiery fingers and hauled her upwards. Ramona dug her clawed hands into her captives forearms, trying to force it to let go, blood welling up under each of her crystalized daggers. The Other Flamethrower growled again and squeezed tighter, Blood Red Ramona coughing and gasping for breath.

"Any minute now?" Robin elbowed Ryo from behind. Much longer and the Other Flamethrower would strangle its captive to death.

Ryo grunted and the tornado that surrounded the gasping Ramona and the Other Flamethrower tightened, sucking the air from the space around them.

At first, the oxygen in the air fed the fire on the Other Flamethrower's body and the flames leaped with the wind, whipping around in the tornado and making it a fire-tornado instead of a wind-tornado. Once the wind sped up though, the extra air backfired on the fire and doused it completely instead.

The Other Flamethrower glared at the two boys through the spinning wall of air and tried to make its way toward them but was too weak to oppose the vacuum created by the tornado. Eventually, the lack of air finally worked its way into the Other Flamethrower's brain and its eyes went unfocused. It dropped the already unconscious Blood Red Ramona to the ground where her blood crystal claws liquefied and pooled on the ground around her hands. The Other Flamethrower dropped to its knees, mouth gasping for breath like a fish out of water and then keeled over on its side and lay unmoving, unconscious from lack of oxygen

Robin nudged Ryo, motioning that it was enough and that he could stop. Ryo shook his head and motioned pointedly at the half-conscious metahuman still on its hands and knees.

"Just a little longer. I want to make sure she's out for sure." Ryo hunched his shoulders under the strain. "And Blood Red Ramona could do with a few less brain cells." Ryo muttered under his breath.

Robin cocked an eyebrow and nudged him again. Ryo narrowed his eyes and the tornado tightened but then he dropped his hands and it dissipated, leaving behind two very unconscious metahumans.

Around them, the rest of Blood Red Ramona's gang seemed to have been dealt with—as Artemis had gotten bored just sitting on the edge of the brawl and had eventually handed her pack to Ice Man and had launched herself into it whole heartedly.


	9. Slip-Ups & Sunglasses

The casualty count was small; cuts, scrapes, sore spots that would develop into colourful bruises by the morning and maybe a broken bone or two—this didn't count the two nearly suffocated metahumans, but still. In about a weeks time, everyone would be up and about their usual business (unless usual business meant beating up Runner's gang, because there was no way _these_ people were going to try that again).

Robin rubbed a shoulder (he had been caught in the shoulder from behind with a boot) and checked his watch. It read almost quarter to two. This whole confrontation had taken about 28 minutes, from start to end. It was time to end it now and go home. Robin turned his back to everyone and dialled on his watch, sending a message to Mount Justice. Wally would be there in a manner of minutes.

Turning, Robin watched as Matches and Ryo lifted the unconscious form of Flamethrower and placed her on the ground, far from the clumps of unconscious bodies littering the floor. He walked over and surveyed her, still as death with her head lolling to the side and the sound of her breathing almost imperceptible.

"Usually she's fine after this. She'll sleep for about a day and then wake up and not remember anything of what happened before." Ryo breathed out and stretched his arms. "Its pretty sad, really. When she finds out what happened, she beats herself up over it, even if there was nothing she can do to stop herself."

Robin nodded solemnly, brain gears whirring at high speed. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. "How many times has this happened, that she gets taken over?"

Ryo shrugged. "It happened a lot when she was younger, but in much smaller quantities, like from between 2 seconds to 45 seconds. For those, we stopped counting after the 13th time. Then, she didn't do much damage, knocking over stuff and breaking things was about it." He looked tired, black lines under his eyes, older than a 16-year-old boy should look.

"She stopped having the 'freak outs' as we called them, when she was twelve, and we thought she was getting better, we were wrong. They were farther in between but worse, much worse. She would go under for up to 10 minutes or even 20 if we didn't knock her out. Remember the fire down at the wharf last year?"

How could Robin not? A small tanker had spontaneously combusted right in port and blew a big shack to pieces as well as completely wrecking 1/5th of the docks and damaging four other ships near by.

"It was this kid." Ryo ran his hands through his hair.

"I don't know who you are, but she's better off having you two as her friends." Robin's stomach jolted as he remembered. They had all been outside already when Blood Red Ramona had accused Flamethrower of joining the Justice League. By the looks of it, they weren't too fond the JLA just as much as she was.

"Maybe you know some people, maybe you can help her."

"Help who? What? Sorry, I missed that, can you repeat it?" Kid Flash appeared out of nowhere and skidded to a halt beside Robin and Ryo, looking incredibly florescent in his bright yellow and red uniform. "My god," he knelt down beside the unconscious Flamethrower, "what happened to her?"

Kid Flash and his red lightning bolt was 100% recognizable from all the posters and ads around town for the Flash. It took Ryo a split second to put it all together; the boy with sunglasses, the girl with the bow and arrows who were basically ninjas and the red headed speedster in bright yellow spandex.

Robin hopped back just in time as Ryo took a savage swing at him, face twisted.

"The Justice League?!" His face twisted. "You tricked us!" Robin glanced down to find a small rip on the front of his hoodie, as if someone had sliced it with a knife.

"Woah." Kid Flash put up his hands. "C'mon man, we're just here to help.

"We didn't trick you," Robin said calmly, holding out his arms to show that he meant no harm. "We helped you fight those guys didn't you?"

"Help?! The only thing the Justice League does is put people like us in prison! There's no way I'm letting you take Double F." He stepped over his friend, as if to protect her and raised his hands.

In hindsight, Robin could now see a potential reason why he _shouldn't_ have busted in on Flamethrower's old crew, guns blazing—in the literary sense. It hadn't occurred to him that the presence of the Justice League _wasn't_ accepted everywhere. Where Robin could argue that the Young Justice League wasn't _exactly_ part of the JLA, that wouldn't really help at the moment. The one thing that _would_ help right now would be less thinking and more moving.

Ryo was an experienced fighter, one that didn't belong on the streets. There was definite evidence that he had been trained and trained well. He could block Robin's punches and slip past his guard to hit him in the collarbone, in the hip, in the side of the head and in the chest again. Though, for every hit that Ryo placed on him, Robin placed one in return.

The other five guys in Ryo's gang had tried to attack too, but Kid Flash and Artemis hardly broke a sweat bringing them down. The big blond kid _had_ nailed KF with a whooping left hook and literally punched the breath out of him but Artemis put an Electrode Arrow to the back of the big boy's cranium in response and he fell smoking to the ground.

Ryo brought his arm to his ear and whipped it out in a backhand strike aimed for Robin's ribs. Robin blocked it with his left forearm and punched Ryo in the face. There was a crack and blood burst from the older boy's nose, spraying Robin's sunglasses. Ryo balled his other hand and sunk it into Robin's stomach driving the air from him. Robin felt his feet leave the ground and he flew maybe ten feet before skidding to the ground. Robin was starting to get annoyed by everyone suddenly developing super strength.

Kid Flash appeared behind Ryo and put his shoulder into the boy's back, his momentum carrying the two of them into a stack of crates. The crates collapsed on top of them, but got blown right off as a body in a yellow suit went flying out of the pile at a 450 angle. Ryo scrambled up, breathing heavily. The cuffs of his red football jacket whipped back and forth around his wrists and the tail of the jacket flared up behind him as if blown by some very precise air current.

Robin frowned and tapped the side of his sunglasses. Immediately, the insides lit up and connected him straight to the Mount Justice main frame. What, you didn't expect Robin to just have regular sunglasses did you? Oh no, these things had the wifi capability of a brand new super computer, 18 gigabytes of memory stored in the arms as well as a charge with a 5 second fuse placed in the bridge over his nose that could blow a whole in a wall. Robin had built them two nights ago from some scraps he found under his bed and had been looking for a chance to try them out.

The glasses had been automatically recording the last 20 seconds of visual and Robin tapped the lenses once to slow down the video, zooming in on Ryo's jacket sleeves. He immediately saw the pattern in the way the cuffs moved. I wasn't super strength after all. The black haired boy could control air, more specifically wind chi and was using it to give his punches more edge. Smart. But even if Robin did admire him a bit, Ryo still needed to be taken down.

Robin s-bended to his feet and went for Ryo. He felt his body fall into routine, into autopilot. It was just like the training days in the BatCave, in which Batman drilled him endlessly so that in situations like this, the Boy Wonder would be ready.

Step 1: Provoke. Robin poked Ryo hard in the eye.

Step 2: Disorient. Robin clapped his hands down hard on both sides of older boy's head, the impact ringing through his skull. Whatever block or strike Ryo had started got cut short, his arms going limp.

Step 3: Disarm. Robin closed his fingers together and knife handed Ryo in the back of the bicep, the inside of his elbow, his forearm and both sides of his wrist, hitting all the important pressure points. For good measure, he also spear handed him in the color bone so he couldn't raise his arm.

Ryo tried another strike but looked surprized when he found he couldn't move his right arm.

"I hit all your pressure points. You won't be able to move your arm for the next couple hours." Robin stopped his blows and stepped back. "Give up, Ryo. You can't win this fight."

There was a whooshing sound and the Bioship uncloaked beside the factory, the gleaming red hull now visible through the smashed factory windows. Robin and Artemis could feel M'Gann reach out with her mind, hooking them into the telepathic link.

_We have arrived. What is your status? _Aqualad's thoughts were clear and precise.

_Multiple people down,_ Artemis responded for the both of them, _One hostile still standing, but Robin's dealing with him._

_He's not hostile,_ Robin glared at Artemis from across the room. _ But still dangerous_.

_Affirmative_. Aqualad answered.

Miss Martian shifted through the wall and materialized beside Kid Flash, who was still picking himself up from the floor. Super Boy and Aqualad came in through the door, picking their way through the unconscious people lying on the ground.

"You are outnumbered." Robin put his hands up again. "Give up this fight. Its one you can't win."

Obviously, Ryo didn't believe in no-win situation.

Aqualad was still pretty tired. It was half past two in the morning and about two minutes ago, he had been snoring in his warm cozy bed, dreaming of Atlantis and its delectable cooking.

Wally had mercilessly dragged him out of bed just as the dessert course had come out and told him to get dressed and get down to the Bioship. In a flash, they had ended up here, in the middle of Happy Harbour beside some abandoned factory that was full of crates and unconscious people.

So, yes, he was surprised when he stepped over the threshold to find some random black haired kid in a red football jacket flying through the air towards him. And, no, he did not have time to react before the random black haired kid in the red football jacket flying through the air towards him nailed him in the face with his fist.

Aqualad dropped like a rock as Ryo hit him.

But Super Boy was ready for him. He grabbed Ryo's jacket and swung him into the ground with a grunt. Ryo rolled away from him and scrambled to his feet. Miss Martian held up her arms on the other side of the room and telekinetically glued Ryo in place. He strained against the bonds holding him, but they were too strong.

Super Boy came up behind him and quickly put him in a full nelson. As Miss Martian released his bonds, Ryo struggled but Super Boy hung on to him grimly.

They tried calming him down, they really did and even tried putting him in hand cuffs but Ryo was like a cornered panther. He fought savagely, landing a couple good blows on all his captors. Robin finally gave up and reached into his utility belt (under his hoodie) and brought out the anaesthetic; an epi-pen sort of contraption filled with a dose of Ketamine big enough to take out a bucking horse.

When Ryo saw it, he thrashed even harder, punching Super Boy in the face and kicking Robin in the chest. Robin sat back hard on the cold concrete floor as his breath whooshed out of him (again) and the anaesthetic went spinning out if his hand. He growled at the captive and scrambled after it.

As Robin turned his back to pick up the Ketamine from where it had rolled under some unconscious teenager, there was a thunk like metal hitting flesh and the sounds of struggle stopped. Spinning, he saw Aqualad standing over a very unconscious Ryo, fist raised.

"That was _not_ necessary." Robin commented as he returned. "I was going to put him out with this." he raised the Ketamine.

Aqualad frowned. "No, but it was faster." He rubbed his cheekbone where there was already a purpling contusion from the flying punch he had received earlier.

Robin raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

They loaded Flamethrower into the Bioship and disguised every bit of evidence that suggested they had ever been there. Robin even made it look as if it was a rave or a party or something by gathering broken beer bottles from outside and scattering them amongst the wreckage of the inside of the factory.

Once they had lifted off, M'Gann made an anonymous call to the police, claiming that she was hearing loud noises from the abandoned factory beside her house and wanted the police to investigate. Even if they thought it was some old lady complaining, the police would soon arrive to find almost two-dozen teenagers lying unconscious among crates and beer bottles; a handful with first and second degree burns, one partially strangled, one with a burn on the back of his scull, another with a broken nose and one halfway through a wall. This case would be under investigation for weeks but at least all of them got the medical attention they needed.

Robin couldn't _wait_ for Batman to kick him in the head when they got back to the Mountain.


	10. Policies & Pyjamas

Ryo was right; Flamethrower slept for a whole day, plus a bit. The Young Justice League got back to the Mountain by 2:50 and found Red Tornado and Black Canary waiting for them in the hangar. Black Canary had her 'you're going to have a killer work out tomorrow' look and Red Tornado… well, he's a robot, so it was a bit hard to tell what he was feeling.

No one spoke as they filed out of the Bioship, Conner bringing up the end— carrying Flamthrower. They trudged up the stairs, a couple people yawning along the way.

Batman had his back to them when they made it up to the main room, facing instead the supercomputer. He didn't even turn around to speak to them.

"Go to bed. All of you." Saying that Batman was furious was probably the understatement of the century.

It was bad enough that Batman didn't ask Robin to stay and report, as he always did. Batman trusted Robin the most to give the most accurate report of all the team leaguers and often accepted his as the truth above other's, as they had not been trained as extensively in the art of 'Report Making' as the Boy Wonder. The fact that the Dark Knight didn't even want to hear what his protégé had to say was slightly terrifying.

Conner was steered towards the sick bay in the basement of the HQ (yes, they even had a small sick bay) to deposit Flamethrower. Everyone else went straight to their rooms; it was three o'clock in the morning and no one expected Black Canary and Red Tornado to cut them slack the next day.

Halfway through changing out of his covert disguise, Robin decided to hop down to the sick bay to check on Flamethrower. He glanced out his door to make sure no one was watching (it would be wholly undignified to for the Boy Wonder to be seen sneaking down a hallway in nothing but a tank top and a pair of blue plaid flannel pyjama pants) and then padded quickly past the other members' closed doors to the double doors at the end that led down the stairs.

Past the double doors at the end of the dimly lit hallway, the stairs were well lit with stark white fluorescent bulbs. Robin narrowed his eyes against the bright lights as he closed the door behind him and slipped down the stairs.

The sick bay down stairs was all shiny stainless steep countertops, white ceiling tiles and white starched bed sheets. It had two beds with each their own curtains and a huge armoire on the wall full of everything that you could ever need to care for someone, arranged in neat piles and labelled. There was also a door that led off to another room, stacked with still more medical supplies and even a hand held x-ray machine.

Flamethrower was snoozing on the right hand bed, still dressed in her grey (burnt) turtleneck and black jeans, starched white bed sheets pulled up to her stomach, rising and falling with the movement of her chest. Her left sleeve was pushed up and an IV was stick in her wrist, connected to an IV bag full of clear liquid (0.9% sodium chloride, saline solution) and the screen beside her bed blipped softly with every heartbeat.

Flamethrower had suddenly become incredibly interesting; a mind with another personality and a completely new set of skills hidden under lock and key. What if she learned to be able to activate it and deactivate it at will? To be able to control something with that power, the potential was almost unlimited. Immunity to fire—just to start out—super strength, ridiculously high pain tolerance, as well as incredible fire control. Of course, Flamethrower would have to be able to _control_ it; the mindless state she went into when the secondary personality was activated was dangerous. And if she had moral obstructions with activating the secondary personality, this would also cause a dilemma, possibly throwing a wrench in his—_the_ plan.

Robin shivered. It was generally cooler in the basement and the sick bay was no exception, least of all for a boy in a thin sleeveless shirt and bare feet. Casting one last glance over the sleeping metahuman, Robin headed back for the stairs and up to his warm, dark room.

The Boy Wonder was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

As expected, no one was allowed to sleep in just because they went to bed late the day before. Black Canary was up, pounding on their doors at 6:30, 'no mercy' written across her face. By force of habit, Robin was already up (albeit a bit blurry eyed) and dressed in running shorts and a quick dry t-shirt, already having anticipated the morning's workout. When Wally refused to get out of bed after Black Canary came back for the third time, she pulled the sheets off him, put the sleepy boy in a full nelson and dragged him out of his room.

Morning fitness was mostly running, like usual. Today though, Black Canary set the time limit to a whole five minutes faster than what they were used to. Wally, who had not been allowed back in his room after he had been forcefully removed from it had to run barefoot in his Ferrari boxers and white t-shirt that said 'Eat my dust'.

The course was five kilometers through forest, ditches, scrambling up cliffs, jumping platforms, splashing through big mud puddles and even wading four times through a river. Sometimes Black Canary varied the course, making them skip certain sections and sometimes adding extras depending on the day, but today, they had to do the _whole_ thing. Connor had to do it twice and Wally, three times.

The run started out fine, everyone going at their own speed. Robin tripped over a root and managed to catch himself before he landed face down in a mud puddle, but Wally wasn't so lucky. Going at such a high speed, the Kid Flash not only landed face down in the mud but also skidded a few feet through it as well. M'Gann stepped in a sink hole hidden in the mud puddle and get covered in mud up to her knees. Connor landed too close to the edge of the last wooden platform (he had to jump from the first one to the last one in a single bound, not allowed to use the middle ones) and slipped right off, landing right in the—you guessed it—mud. Artemis was doing well until she stepped on a slimy rock in the river and got completely dunked under the freezing water.

Robin was scrambling up a shale-covered cliff when one of his footholds gave way and he slid all the way back down, scraping the skin off his hands and knees. He gritted his teeth, wiped his hands on his shirt leaving smears of blood and kept going.

In the end, Kaldur seemed to be the only one that made it through the whole course without major incident. As hard as they tried, none of them made it within Black Canary's time limit and they all had to do _two_ extra sets of suicide sprints as punishment.

After the sprints, Black Canary gave them 45 minutes to have showers, change and eat breakfast before they were to report to the training room for the strategical lesson with Batman.

Breakfast was very fast, everyone having spent most of their time in the shower trying to get the mud off. Batman had gotten over his immediate rage, but he was still not happy. He gave them all very difficult problems to solve; including variables like limited weapon supply, weather conditions, time limits and so on. Even Robin was struggling to get through all the problems Batman had lined up for them.

The Boy Wonder managed to get to about half way through problem number 4 when Batman exploded. But Batman exploding wasn't quite _exploding_ more like discussing with a stern tone, but everyone could see the wrath boiling in his eyes.

"That was incredibly irresponsible of you all." Was the first thing he said.

"I am incredibly disappointed in you all. I thought we had trained you well enough to act on your own, independently but also correctly and wisely and I see that we were wrong." Was the second thing Batman said.

Wally had completely zoned out by the third sentence. He knew more or les how this was going to go down; Batman accusing them of being irresponsible teenagers, acting only on instincts, did they stop to think before they acted, no! Did they consider all the consequences of their actions before they muscled their way into someone else's life? This also brought up an ethical issue, seeing as how Flamethrower's "secret identity" was now compromised, blah blah blah blah blah. Wally dropped his head into his hand and squinted at Batman's moving mouth and tried to imagine what other words could be issuing from his tight lips, other then the ones that he was actually saying.

"Apples, into, soap and bathrobe, coming down to town, underneath, retire, balloon ball…" The cheeky speedster almost laughed out loud but caught himself in time. To laugh in the face of Batman was to court death and even though they were probably all going to pay with their lives anyway, Wally was really hoping to at least live until lunchtime.

Artemis now was speaking and Wally looked over and tuned in.

"It was an accident, I just saw her and didn't know what was going on so I followed her. Didn't you train us to keep tabs on suspicious looking people?" Her eyebrows were knitted and her hands curled into fists on the table.

"Yes, but we are dealing with_ secret identities_ right now, you all knew she was doing something personal and therefore you need to _keep your noses out of it_."

"Yes, I know but—"

"If you knew then why did you call the _whole team_ in to investigate?!"

"Actually," Robin raised his hand, like a kid at school, "that was my call, I called everyone in. Artemis consulted with me and I decided to alert the base."

Batman turned to Robin, looking even less amused.

"And what _possessed_ you to make that descision?"

Robin rubbed the back of his neck with his raised hand but still looked pretty confident for a teenager facing of a superhero.

"Her and a group of teenagers were going to get massacred by another group, over imaginary territorial boundaries." Batman looked like he was going to say something, but Robin bravely continued on. "In the Justice League of America Rule and Policy Book, Section 1.7, paragraph 2 it says, and I quote: "In the case that a member of the Justice League of America believes that a person or group of persons are in danger of any types of physical or physiological harm and they believe that the harm is imminent and cannot be in any way escaped, deflected, stopped or decreased to a level that is no longer in any way harmful then that member of the Justice League of America must intervene and do whatever is within their power, to the point of death or serious injury to aid this person or group of persons in escaping said threat. Should the risks be impossible to escape, deflect, stop or decrease then the member of the Justice League of America in question will then judge what action is to take place, only on last option should he/she resort to the use of violence and/or physical and/or mental harm to protect the threatened person or group of persons."

There was a silence as everyone processed the fact that Robin just recited twelve lines of lawyer-speak gibberish from memory. Connor leaned over to Wally and whispered behind his hand.

"We have a rulebook?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I think Flash mentioned _something_ about a set of guidelines that I should read but I thought he was kidding and never looked at it again." Wally shrugged back at him.


	11. History & Hiding

Undeterred by Robin's recitation, Batman was still spitting furious.

"You are part of the _Justice League_, meant to do missions that cannot be done by the official members. You were _not_ given this mission and therefore have no responsibility to carry it out! That was rash and dangerous. You are all well trained fighters but there were a lot of them, _you saw that_ and yet you kept fighting. What happened to all the tactics we taught you, what about your _common sense?!"_

Robin turned a bit red and fought the urge to cover his purpling check with one hand.

"Batman, you _did_ give us this mission, though." Artemis was confident. "Remember when you first introduced us to Flamethrower, we were expecting you to give us a mission and when you were leaving, we asked and you said you _had_ given us one. Flamethrower was our mission." She paused and took a breath. "Flamethrower was in danger of physical harm, and so we took action to stop it."

There was a bit of a pause.

Conner gripped the edges of the desk hard with both hands. "They were going to get the living daylights beat out of them whether we were there or not. We weren't just going to stand there and watch them get beaten to a pulp right in front of us. Isn't that the premise of the Justice League, to protect innocent people? While those kids aren't completely innocent, they were still people that needed protecting."

Batman narrowed his eyes at Connor who glared back defiantly. There was a brave vibe going around, no one would have just said the things they did on a normal day. In fact, if you had told any of the members of the Young Justice League that they would say such bold things to the Dark Knight, they would have gone and punished themselves with two extra laps around the outside track for just imagining the possibility.

Next it was Kaldur's turn.

"I agree with Batman that it was rash and dangerous but yet we were resourceful and we made the best of the situation that we could. There were few injuries, none that will have a lasting effect and there was minimal collateral damage."

Batman grunted. "We used the skill you taught us, Batman and turned the situation from terrible to unsatisfactory. Given the resources we had, I believe this was a good learning experience for us to experience situation that we don't have any control of he environment."

Batman was still not convinced. "Though all your arguments have validity, the overall situation was too dangerous and risky, the cons outweighing the pros. You have no excuses for butting in on Flamethrower's personal business, though it did yield beneficial results. You should expect to be punished for your actions, as you will. This discussion is closed, I don't want to hear any more about it unless I or one of the other _official_ Justice League members inquire about it."

Batman turned back to the computer and continued doing whatever he was doing before. The conversation was definitely over. The members of the Young Justice League got back to solving their near impossible strategically exercises, not a single one of them able to keep their minds on their work.

When the computer announced _"Its Eleven Thirty.",_ the YJL handed in their work one at a time and dispersed, having half an hour to chill before lunch. Batman caught Robin's eye before he left and nodded to him. Robin understood; Batman wanted to hear his full and unbiased report after lunch. At least now Robin would be able to tell him about what really happened and hopefully his mentor would understand.

After lunch, Black Canary made them do an unnecessarily difficult kickboxing workout that left them all wanting to puke by 2:30. Water break, then Batman put them in groups and sent them off into the city for a reconnaissance mission, none of them allowed to use technology (Batman liked to do that sometimes; give them a reasonable task and then put an inconvenient twist in it that made it just all the more harder). No technology literally meant anything that even ran on batteries; watches, buses, GPSs, cellphones, even recording devices. Everyone grabbed a pencil and a notepad before they left. Wally tried reasoning with Batman that the Bioship technically didn't run on anything, that it was a life source of its own and so technically it should count but Batman looked like he wanted to roundhouse kick the Kid Flash in the side of the head, and so the Kid Flash in question smartly shut up, grabbed a notepad and left.

Unfortunately for the Young Justice, it rained. It started drizzling at about three and started pouring about quarter to four. Every single one of them was soaked to the bone and shivering by the time they got back to the HQ, ready to drop dead any second. Before suppertime, Red Tornado had them for one last session; history to social studies to psychology and everything in between. Today was history (it went in cycles) and either Red Tornado was sympathetic towards the young overworked heroes, or it was just a simple coincidence but he made them watch an old, very boring movie about the formation of the Justice League, because apparently they hadn't seen it enough times already. The lights dimmed, the voice over was rhythmic and monotone and everyone was asleep—heads on desks—before Supes and the rest of the original seven beat Darkseid back to wherever he came from.

Red Tornado woke them all up before they were called for supper and the six of them dragged their feet to the dinner table, shoved food down into their whining stomachs and went straight to bed.

The next day though, they _were_ allowed to sleep in because of the killer day before. Sleeping in, though, meant like sleeping until seven thirty instead of six thirty. Robin was fairly surprised to find himself still in bed at quarter past seven. He hadn't slept that late in god knows how long!

Nine thirty (archery practice—Artemis's favourite) saw a groggy figure drag itself to the doorway of the kitchen.

"Hey guys." Flamethrower smiled and waved half-heartedly. She was still tired from two days ago, looking a bit pale and unsteady on her feet.

Everyone welcomed her back, asking how she was feeling and she replied a bit tired. Once she ate something, though, Flamethrower regained most of her old colour and had more of a spring in her step. She even tried shooting a bow but couldn't hit anything closer than the blue ring—still, pretty good for a beginner. It was important for everyone to learn how to properly use every weapon possible, just in case they had limited options. Artemis was _(obviously)_ the best—by a long shot (pun intended)—and then Robin, who had been tutored in basically everything by Batman, then a decent sized gap, then Kaldur, who's shots always drifted to the right, despite being right handed and then Connor, who counted for probably the highest bow mortality rates out of all of then and M'Gann who had a pretty decent shot but dropped more arrows than she fired. And then…there was Wally.

Robin watched Flamethrower from the corner of his eye as he aimed down the shaft of his arrow. She didn't look like she was feeling bad about herself or looking guilty so he assumed that Ryo was indeed right and she didn't remember anything after she had turned. He hated to have to see the look on her face when she found out that she had put her closest friends in the hospital.

By the end of the day, Flamethrower was almost back to normal, still a bit weak (like when you have a fever and you can't do everything you usually can for the next couple days) but just as enthusiastic. Supper was good, more chatter this time than last night, as today wasn't so harshly gruelling.

After supper, the Young Justice members usually got time off until bedtime (unless something came up) and today was no exception. Robin was perched on his bed, typing on his laptop when someone knocked.

"Come in." Robin said, without looking, trying to finish one last thought.

There was a cough at the doorway and Robin glanced up to find Flamethrower still in her workout clothes, grimacing apologetically.

"May I—…?" she jerked her hand towards the inside of the room.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, come in." Robin motioned with his hands for to come take a seat. Flamethrower took the stool offered and put her hands on her knees.

"Uhh…"

Robin was just ending his last sentence, but didn't like what he wrote. It took three tries until he was happy and then he shut his computer and put it aside, turning to face Flamethrower.

"Well…" she scratched her head. "About yesterday…"

Robin nodded, the gears in his head whirring fast. She didn't realize that she had slept for two days.t

"I don't really remember what happened last night. Like, I remember me going to see Ryo and the others and you guys being there," she blushed a bit and kneaded her pants with her hands, "but then we were leaving and then I don' remember anything. Did I…did I do anything…" Flamethrower looked even more awkward.

Robin inclined his head.

"Anything…weird?" Flamethrower tore her gaze from the carpet and looked hopefully at Robin.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her about her change and about her power and about the fact that Blood Red Ramona didn't stand a _chance_ once the Other Flamethrower took over.

"The reason you can't remember anything is because that Ramona girl set a booby trap for us, just in case we managed to get out by that way. There was a knockout gas charge set in the wall and you got the full force of it. The rest of us managed to get out in time, but you dropped like a sack of potatoes so we brought you back. Batman wanted to put you in the sick bay for a night just to make sure you didn't get poisoned; you breathed so much in that it could have potentially been harmful."

He couldn't do it.

Flamethrower nodded, relief showing plain across her face. "And Blood Red Ramona and her gang?"

"The police came and picked them up and your friends got away Scott-free." The lies rolled off his tongue like water off a stone. "They're hiding at the moment and said they won't surface for a few months, to keep a low profile."

Flamethrower smiled and breathed out. "Fiew. Thanks. Okay, thank you, good night and see you tomorrow then." She got up and waved at the door.

Robin grinned and waved back, wishing her as well a good night. He would wait until he thought that she could handle it; handle the idea that her uncontrollable rage put one of her friends in hospital.

Just as long as everybody else played along as well. Robin sighed and got up from his bed, going to knock on everybody's doors.

* * *

**1. Hey guys. Sorry for the late update. Real life is such a pain sometimes.**

**2. Apologies, but there won't be any updates in the month of November. I'm participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) which is going to be _fun_, not including this as well. I don't want to have to half ass a chapter for you all the night before. If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, go check it out, its lots of fun and a good way to get yourself addicted to caffeine! Link: en.**

**See y'all beginning of December guys! (Sorry, again.)**


	12. Comments & Counters

They didn't see Batman for the whole of the next week, or the week after that; that meant no mission. All seven of them were starting to go a little squirrely. There were some days that they didn't even get to go _outside_ for the whole day. Its not like there was nothing to do around the HQ—which there was, lots of things in fact—but they wanted to go downtown and breath the gas-emission-infused air and walk among all the citizens of Happy Harbour.

Trips to the Harbour had also been cancelled. The Black Canary brought groceries back to the HQ, no one else allowed to even set foot onto the asphalt of the road by the mountain.

On the bright side, because of so much _quality time_ in the base, the list of things that had to be done around the HQ had been diminished significantly. That transition glass that had been sitting in the hallway forever had finally been installed in the hangar doors, the zeta-tubes had gotten a thorough scrubbing and sterilizing and the floor of every member's room was neat and impeccably clothes-and-other-junk free. Most of the JLA had a running pool that Wally was actually hiding a dead body under the pile of personal items stacked in the corner of his room. The Green Lantern actually stopped by when he heard that the Kid Flash was doing a serious cleaning, though the poor man lost at least $20 when all that was revealed to be underneath the junk was a smothered teddy bear.

The Green Lantern's visit was probably the most exciting thing that happened in those two weeks. Other than that, Robin, M'Gann, Kaldur, Conner, Wally, Artemis and Flamethrower trained. Hard.

Every day they did harsh routines and were drilled endlessly in new formations and attack patterns. Sometimes, people ended up having two showers a day because of the dirt, blood, sweat and tears that got caked on during training sessions. The hot water tank barely had time to refill itself between showers and many a time, showers were taken cold.

By the middle of the second week, Black Canary was sick of cold showers too (because she didn't have her own hot water reserve) and set Flamethrower to work, using the activity of warming up water as a drill. Flamethrower would sit in the boiler room and pinpoint a place in the plumbing where she had to warm up the water; for example, a small stretch of pipe on the ceiling or even the tank itself. The first time Flamethrower tried, the hot water was even worse than the cold water; Flamethrower couldn't keep the temperature regulated and it spiked and dipped at random intervals. The end of the week saw everyone enjoying their Flamethrower-heated showers with pleasure, Flamethrower being able to easily control the temperature of a small tank of water or a stretch of metal pipe.

"I'm going to run away." Wally said matter-of-factly, over supper one night.

"That's nice." Artemis mumbled through her full mouth, without taking her eyes off the arrow in her lap. She was trying to complete a new arrow design but was interrupted by supper. The tools from her workshop sat beside her cutlery, Artemis switching between the slot head screwdriver and the fork regularly.

"Where's Robin?" M'Gann glanced around the table. "Did anyone tell him it was dinnertime?"

"I did." Flamethrower, head on hand, played with her mash potatoes, using her fork to create a mountain and then squish it into a rather lumpy looking pancake. "But he was too busy playing on the computer so he probably didn't hear me."

M'Gann pursed her lips.

"Can you please go remind him?" She said. The steak, peas and mash potatoes on his plate were starting to go cold.

Flamethrower got up, scraping her chair across the floor and sighed in a frustrated manner as she put down her fork. No one wanted to have to be separated from his or her respective delicious diners.

If Conner had laser vision, he would have already burnt a hole through his plate to the center of the earth. He had already bent his fork into a ninety degree angle and there was a new crack in his cup that no one could remember being there before. Tempers were running high.

Robin looked incredibly unhappy from being disturbed from whatever he had been doing on the computer and, even through his sunglasses, his gaze was boring a whole in Flamethrowers back as she led him through the door.

The atmosphere was as thick as pea soup as everyone settled back into their places and kept eating. Eventually, Kaldur tried to offer a condolence.

"It has been two weeks so far and we have worked hard. I am certain that Batman had judged our punishment to be over and will be returning with a mission soon." The silence was even more profound than before until Artemis threw down her cutlery.

"_He's not coming._ Can't you understand? We are _never_ _going to get another mission_! We screwed up so big time that he's never going to trust us again!" She growled, looking around. Artemis had managed to put words to the thoughts everyone was feeling.

"That's not true." M'Gann stared back defiantly from the other side of the table. "We might have made some mistakes but we are in this together and Batman knows how good we can be."

"We're in this together are we?" Wally snarled. He had been fairly quiet these past couple days—which was very unusual but everyone else had been too occupied to notice. "Is that why we're all being punished _together_ even though only _three_ of us made a mistake?"

Robin didn't take kindly to that comment.

"Mistake?! We did what was necessary. Flamethrower was in danger and we came to protect her." Robin's hands curled into fists on the table and his nostrils flared as he defended himself. Everything the Boy Wonder did was right and never had to be questioned—his reasoning was impeccable.

"I did _not_ need _help._" They were yelling now. Flamethrower's hand jerked downward, her fork flattening her mash potato volcano with so much force that is spattered in all directions. "I was doing _fine_ until _you_ all showed up."

The place mat caught fire and Flamethrower slapped it out angrily.

Kaldur was still calm, trying to reason with the steadily angering teenagers with superpowers around him. "We _all_ made a bad judgment by showing up, which will help us learn—"

"_No_, _we_ didn't." Wally jumped to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. "_We_ had to come because _Robin_ and _Artemis_ called us in. We had no choice. It was _their_ bad call, not _ours_."

"_Watch it._" Conner wiped his face his hand, removing a piece of volcano sediment from Flamethrower's plate. Flamethrower responded by sticking her tongue out at him. A vein started pulsing in Conner's forehead.

"Hey that is so not true, you guys didn't _have_ to come but you did—"

"Can we calm down _please_—"

"_Eat_ your food, don't _play_ with it—"

"_I_ made a perfectly _logical_ decision, and if you don't remember, Wally, it was you that screwed it up when you showed up in you—"

"Oh, so now its _my_ fault—"

"I didn't say—"

Everyone was on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs as one another, no one able to hear anything. Wally and Robin were at each other's throats, Kaldur was trying in desperation to reason with a furious Artemis, Flamethrower and Conner were yelling so loud at each other that veins stood out in their necks and M'Gann was shouting at everyone in desperation, trying to get everyone to calm down. She almost had everything under control when Flamethrower put her hands on Conner's chest and shoved him hard into the counter. That just made _everything_ worse. Conner regained his balance and lunged for Flamethrower, swinging. He clipped her in the shoulder and she stumbled backwards into the couch.

The kitchen erupted into irrepressible chaos.

Dishes smashed against the floor as people shoved each other. No one really knew whom they were hitting; they just were—swinging fists, elbows and glasses. Kaldur stumbled around, blind with pain and covering his head with his hands, blood tricking from between his fingers. M'Gann had her hands spread, trying to restrain as many people as she could until Kaldur blundered into her and she sent Wally flying into Flamethrower's chest. Artemis lay about, smacking heads together and stepping on fingers.

The table toppled over and porcelain and glass shattered on tiles, shards spinning off in every direction. (Mind you, most of the YJL were barefoot or in socks.) Wailing erupted as everyone grabbed their feet, the soles looking like pincushions. Robin hopped onto a discarded chair and raised his socked feet clear of the floor. Some of the porcelain splinters looked sharp enough to sow a blanket with.

Unfortunately, it stopped everyone but the Superboy and Flamethrower, who were still trying to punch each other out beside the counter. Conner back fisted Flamethrower in the face and her nose popped, blood spraying down the front of her shirt. In return, she got close enough to kick Conner's legs out from under him and he went down hard, cracking the back of his head on the tiled floor.

Growling, Conner tried to stand, placing a hand on the counter for support. Flamethrower snarled back at him and slapped her hand against the counter, the stainless steel underneath her hand growing red-hot. Conner howled and pulled his smoking hand off the counter and charged.

Flamethrower—marginally intelligent as she was—tried to stay out of arms reach of Conner, whose arms were significantly longer than hers. She roundhoused him in the side of the head, heel-kicked him as she turned then caught him right in the chest with her other foot. Conner grabbed her foot and twisted her off balance, then threw her across the room, into the fallen table. Flamethrower lay there for a spell, but pulled herself up and received another wallop in the face by the advancing Superboy. She went down again, him standing above her, face like a storm cloud. She would get whipped if she got up again.

Robin jumped from his chair and landed feet first on Flamethrower's back pinning her against the floor. Conner reached down to grab him and remove him from between himself and his opponent but Robin held on grimly to Flamethrower's shoulders, using his body weight against her as she struggled underneath him. There was grunting above him as invisible hands suddenly gripped Conner's strong arms and pulled him back, away from Robin and Flamethrower.

M'Gann looked incredibly worried as she hugged Conner, pinning his arms at his sides. He let her stop him, but Conner still glared angrily back at the newest team member and her captive.

Robin pulled Flamethrower up from the floor, keeping a firm grip around her arm so that she couldn't launch herself at Conner again. Both combatants stood, motionless, breathing hard and glaring at each other across the room for a good minute until Wally broke the silence.

"Aaaargh, my foot!" he rocked back on his butt, clutching his ankle with both hands, the bottom of his foot spiked with white spines, blood tracing lines over his skin.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!" Wally cried. "Someone, quick, get the amputation instruments, my foot is so mangled, I'll never walk again—" he quieted down when Artemis smacked him over the back of the head.

Kaldur wasn't looking too good either; he was crouching on the ground, both hands on his head and a couple of blood spatters at his feet.

"Shit." Robin looked around and took stock of the extent of the damage. This was going to hard to explain.

"Artemis, get Wally and Kaldur down to the medical bay. M'Gann, keep Conner here. Flamethrower, you're coming with me." Robin tightened his hold on Flamethrower's arm until she followed him.

"Can you stand on that foot? Put your arm around my shoulder…there we go." Artemis hoisted Wally up from the floor and led him—limping—off.

* * *

**1. Ahh, nice to be back. I completed NaNorWriMo with 50 017 words and a side affect of sleep deprivation...but I'm back!**

**2. I'm also going to be changing post dates days from Tuesdays to Wednesdays. I don't even know why I chose Tuesday in the first place. Its the worst day of the whole week for me! So, yes, Wednesdays.**

**See y'all then!**


	13. Tissues & Telekinesis

Robin towed Flamethrower back to the bedroom hallway and pulled his door open, shoving her onto a stool by the bed. She sat there, head down and shoulders hunched, not moving or saying anything. Robin sighed, exasperated and opened the drawer of the night table beside his bed, drawing out some alcohol wipes and tissues.

He returned and forced her chin up with his hand. She turned red and looked away, the hair pulled out of her bun falling in front of her face. Robin went about cleaning the now dry blood off her upper lip and chin like a mother would clean the ice cream off her child's face, scrubbing hard until the flesh was pink.

Flamethrower's shirt was a mess, blood splattered all the way down the front and one of the sleeves half ripped off. Robin chewed his lip, then opened his drawer and grabbed the first shirt at hand. It was a green Green Lantern t-shirt, faded and soft with many washes and lots of love, though he wouldn't mind lending it off for a while. Robin wasn't the sentimental type. He held it up, judged it to be about the right size and threw it at Flamethrower, who slightly resembled a lump on a log.

"Put this on…and don't touch anything."

Robin stepped out of the room, his back to the closed door. He hoped Kaldur and Wally were all right and if M'Gann hadn't calmed Conner down by now, there would be some serious property damage. He was about to go and see how they were doing when there was a knock from the inside of the door behind him and Robin opened it to find Flamethrower in his Green Lantern t-shirt, hair dishevelled even more, pinching her nose with one hand and cupping her other hand underneath it. More, fresh, blood was seeping through her fingers and dripping in a pool into her cupped hand.

Suddenly Robin just wanted to punch Flamethrower in the face. High maintenance was underselling it. She couldn't even stop a _nosebleed_ from bleeding over his _favourite shirt_—

He took a deep breath and unclenched fist. The tissues were on the bed. He ripped one in half and rolled the two pieces up a between his fingers, inserting them into Flamethrower's nose to soak up the fresh blood. He also sent her to the bathroom to wash her hands. Once she had washed her hands, he led her back to her own room and told her to stay there. He wanted to check on the rest of the gang without having Conner and Flamethrower leap at each other again.

Later that evening, Batman came.

He looked them over as they stood in a semi-circle around him, no one daring to look him in the eye. Batman's eyes lingered on the blood soaked tissues up Flamethrower's nose, Conner's burned hand and the gauze patch on Kaldur's forehead as he looked them over.

"Now that you've…blown off some steam…" Robin winced quietly. Of course Batman had been watching. "I have a job for you. If you're up for it."

The tense and sombre atmosphere lifted. They were going on a mission!

"Its nothing special." Batman tried to discourage them, but they were already excited. He sighed, as the Young Justice League members looked around at each other in anticipation, like little kids waiting to open their presents at Christmas.

"I'm going to debrief you now and you can get changed afterwards—"

M'Gann raised her hands and her clothes darkened and stretched, her t-shirt and skirt becoming her black uniform with a red 'X' on her chest, a dark blue cape falling down behind her.

Wally took one look at his already-changed teammate and sped off in the direction of his room, Artemis hot on his heels.

"—…or not." Batman finished.

The YJL disappeared, racing each other to get changed fastest in the exhilaration of a mission.

Batman stared after them and sighed again.

Kids.

_"Since I didn't have the chance to debrief you earlier,_" Batman's voice crackled through the Bioship's speaker, his face blown up x100 on the windshield of the ship. "_I will take the liberty to do so now."_

The Young Justice League members were all strapped in tight to their seats in the Bioship, each dressed in their respective, skin-tight uniforms of red, yellow, blue and black. Well, since Flamethrower didn't have a uniform yet, she had just thrown a dark hoodie over her borrowed Green Lantern t-shirt. It would do for now.

The Bioship was heading south over the pier or Happy Harbour, the boats below rocking gently in the waves. The ship was invisible to all those below as it sped across the sky towards the south branch of the High National Bank of Happy Harbour.

"_This is just a simple Break-In mission. A group with automatics is holding up the bank. I need you to get in there, disarm them, round them up and wait for the police to bring you a van. There are seven of them, make sure you have them all. No violence, I don't want anybody hurt_."

It really was a simple mission—the most basic (and textbook) of all. It brought back memories for Robin who—a long time ago—stopped a bank break-in as his first expedition as part of the Dynamic Duo.

Despite the mission's simplicity, the Young Justice members were overjoyed. Anything at this moment would make them happy.

Batman made a few more comments about safety that no one really paid attention to and when he realized he no longer had their full attention, he bid them good luck and ended the transmission.

Robin leaned forward and checked their distance to the drop site on his monitor. He was itching with excited energy, feeling like he could run the world three times over. Kid Flash in the chair behind him was moving nonstop, though he probably actually _could_ run the world three times over if someone let him.

The Boy Wonder glanced out the window and then twisted around in his seat to look at all the other members; Miss Martian concentrated on keeping the flight path of the Bioship in a straight line, Superboy leaning into the window staring down at the docks below, Artemis adjusting the straps of her quiver, Aqualad typing into the monitor in front of him, Kid Flash—bored—vibrating himself in and out of his seatbelt and Flamethrower fiddling with the strings of her hoodie and running her fingers through her tied-back hair.

"So…" Robin let the question trail in the air. "You guys feel like pulling rank on these guys?"

In soccer, house league mind you, when a substantially better team is playing a substantially not as good team, the substantially better team will score enough points to win them the match—two goals ahead maybe—and then spend the rest of the game just defending and not going in for more goals. Have more than four goals on your opponent is generally considered as being just rude, like you're showing off how good you are.

The criminal world greatly resembles the world of house-league soccer in many abstract ways as well as this one. When two sides are facing off, especially when its good vs. evil, the good guys can't beat the living shit out of the bad guys. No, that would be rude. Good guys are supposed to be classy.

The YJL called this 'beating-the-living-shit-out-of-the-bad-guys' as 'pulling rank.' Generally, they were scolded for doing something so showboat-y and unprofessional, though today they were feeling quite rebellious.

"God, yes." Artemis grinned at Robin from across the Bioship.

Superboy smirked into the window glass and Miss Martian smiled slightly and blushed.

"WOOYES!" Kid Flash punched the air behind him, "Lets, _kick_ their asses!"

Aqualad didn't say anything, which basically meant yes, so that was good.

Robin nodded and smiled. Just once, he would allow himself the pleasure of showing the goon with the rifles that he could outsmart their every move and predict every thought going through their thick skulls.

"T-30 seconds." Miss Martian announced from the controls and everyone smacked their chests, releasing the seat belt clips. Standing in a circle around the centre of the floor, everyone stood, grabbing the chair behind them to stop them from lurching into the person opposite.

A hole in the Bioship floor widened at their feet and twenty feet below, Robin could see the pavement roof of the South Branch High National Bank of Happy Harbour. The floor plans were already loaded into his wrist monitor and he was running them through is head, checking exits and flight paths.

One by one, the Young Justice League members dropped through the hole in the floor of the invisible ship onto the concrete and rolled out of the way for others to land. Flamethrower hesitated and Artemis pushed her out of the hole before she decided to turn back. Once on the roof, the seven of them crouched beside the roof door, Robin projecting the floor map of the bank for them on the ground and talking as swiftly as he could.

"KF, I want you down on the ground, on the street to take care of any pedestrians. Miss Martian, go with him and block the front exit. If there are any hostages near the door, get them out and put them on the street, but don't let them leave."

"Miss Martian, with your telekinesis, you are going to place Superboy, Artemis and me on the second floor, where we will descend to the first floor and create a distraction and catch them by surprise."

"Aqualad, I want you and Flamethrower to start on the roof and run down the floors, checking every level on the way, I don't want them to be keeping any prisoners we don't know about. Once you scan every floor, join the party downstairs. All clear?"

Everyone nodded. It would be a slick, smooth operation.

Taking less than ten seconds, Robin lock picked the roof door and let Aqualad and Flamethrower into the building. Kid Flash disappeared, running over the side of the building and Miss Martian took hold of the rest of them and transported them outside the building, placing them on the second floor of the bank.

Pedestrians near by gasped as four teenagers in colorful leotards floated down the outside of the banl, but none made enough commotion to alarm those inside, of which Robin was grateful. Not that it would have made it harder if they lost the element of surprise, the plan would just not have been executed as perfectly as possible.

Once on the second floor, Superboy, Artemis and Robin snuck down the stairwell until they could just see into the room beyond.

People, civilians, were lying all over the floor and holding onto each other, all terrified, some sobbing. Five goons with automatics (four M-16s and Kalashnikov-103) paced the floor, one standing with his back to the door and the others wandering among the hostages, harassing them with sneers. The other two guards, Robin couldn't see them at all, though he did hear raised voices from around the corner.

Picking a spot on the wall, Robin poked Artemis and signed for her shoot. Quietly, she selected an arrow with a small silver canister instead of an arrowhead and notched it to her bow. Artemis sighted down the shaft of her arrow and waited for Robin to nod. When he did, she released, the arrow zipping into the room and hitting the spot on the wall, precisely where Robin had pointed.

The canister exploded, a blinding flash and a tremendous bang, black gas bursting out to fill the doorway.

Boom. Chaos. Robin grinned and waved his hand forward.


End file.
